


Strengths and weaknesses

by Latart0903



Series: Strengths and weaknesses [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Developing Relationship, Garrison life, Keith is underage-ish, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Slow Burn, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 90,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latart0903/pseuds/Latart0903
Summary: “You're obviously not the same person you were before Kerberos, you-” Keith aborted his rant.“We...knew each other? Before? So, we were friends?” Shiro asked.Keith hesitated. “Something like that…”Or: Keith and Shiro have history...-----UPDATE: Thanks to Avidbeader for doing some post-beta reading. Entire work is now updated!





	1. Preface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith recounts his and Shiro's time together at the Galaxy Garrison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update:  
> Now that we are post Season 6 and finally got some bonafide canon pre-kerberos Sheith, I'm adding this disclaimer: This fic is a completely different scenario. Not that anyone has bitched, but this is not platonic. There is smut. But Shiro's not being a creeper. I started writing this after season 1 and was guessing their ages as they were not established yet. I have Keith as 19 and Shiro as 25 in Voltron and therefore they're 17 and 23 respectively at the Garrison.
> 
> Thanks for reading and enjoy! <3

Keith lay awake. The hum of the castle was a familiar background noise by now.

 

Outside in the common room, he heard rustling, pacing, sitting, metal fingers tapping the table. Shiro. Again.

 

It happened most nights. Keith honestly couldn't fathom how the man functioned during the day: alert, first to respond, ready to fight and lead with his go-get-’em attitude that exhausted Keith and likely the others.

 

Keith silently listened. He tossed and turned. Tonight, he decided, is going to be different. He arose with an anxious pit in his stomach, but knowing what he wanted to confront. Some nights he couldn't bear the thought of Shiro being alone, wrestling whatever it was that incessantly haunted him. Slowly he stalked towards the common room.

 

“Hey,” Keith greeted sleepily.

 

“Oh, hey. Did I wake you?”

 

“Uh, kinda.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s cool, I'm used to it, the walls are thin, so...”

 

Shiro chuckled uncomfortably. “Do I talk in my sleep?”

 

Keith paused and sat across from Shiro. He shook his head and held his breath.

 

“Huh, I don't think I snore-”

 

“You….scream,” Keith whispered into an exhale.

 

Shiro’s mouth hung open in an attempt to muster an excuse, a comment to brush off Keith's observation.

 

“I… ah- Sorry. Sometimes I-”

 

“It's almost every night,” Keith interjected.

 

Shiro shifted in his seat and stared uncomfortably past Keith. Keith had never seen Shiro this at a loss for words or a logical explanation.

 

Keith plowed on. “You know, you don't have to keep acting strong for us, like nothing's wrong. There's plenty wrong with _all_ of our situations. We can help. You don't need to pretend. You've obviously been through some shit,” Keith blurted, gesturing towards Shiro's Galra tech arm. “You're obviously not the same person you were before Kerberos, you-” Keith aborted his rant.

 

“We...knew each other? Before?”

 

Keith sighed, this wasn’t the direction he meant for this conversation to take; he didn't know if he could handle it. He twisted his hands. “Uh, yeah...we did. At the Garrison…”

 

“I'm so sorry.”  Shiro shook his head in his hands.  “Growing up in Japan is lucid in my head, my family's faces, moving to the US, applying to the Garrison. It's so clear. But the closer events and people get to the Kerberos mission, things get…fuzzy, they feel like dreams. I can't tell what happened, what's real, or if I made things up while I was imprisoned… Why didn't you say anything?”

 

“I mean, there's a lot going on. This whole Voltron thing has been a whirlwind. Honestly, though, I thought you'd snap out of it eventually, that it would finally come back to you, but- Shiro… I wish I knew what happened. I wish I could help you.”

 

Shiro just shook his head, eyes shifting side to side as he searched internally. “So, we were friends? -are friends,” he corrected.

 

“Something like that.”

 

They both paused and held their breath. The castle’s whirring filled the room.

 

“Please tell me.” Shiro was always the communicator.

 

“I don't know.” Keith was always the avoider.

 

Then, Keith laughed to himself. “We've actually had similar conversations, where I told you to stop being strong for everyone else. To give in for once.”

 

Shiros narrowed his eyes, still searching, taking it in.

 

Keiths voice wavered as he reminisced, “We were at that stupid frat bar in town with the arcade games and those video game flight sims in the back. You had that friend from the MMA gym that worked at the door who would never ID me. It was your friend's birthday that night; you were friends with everyone. I had to drink to be able to interact with any of them at first.

 

“We were sitting in the flight sim and I drank enough shitty PBR to... crawl into your lap and… kiss you.” Keith paused searching Shiro's eyes, Shiro's eyes were glued to the table, mouth slowly dropping open, wracking his brain for a memory, a visual, anything.

 

“You had a million reasons why it was a bad idea, of course. You said there was probably a rule against officers being with cadets, that I was just drunk, that you were too old for me and that you'd look like the creepy old guy…  I told you to stop being strong for everyone else. And I thought the line was so genius at the time… sounds kinda cheesy now, but…” Keith hesitated. “I said, ‘I want to be your weakness.’”

 

Shiro slowly looked up and met Keith's eyes. Knowing. Remembering. Snippets of their prior relationship flashing in his memory.  

 

Shiro finally spoke. “I used to make you come to my place Monday nights after the crappy Asian stir-fry the cafeteria served so that we could eat proper rice. I used the rice cooker my mom mailed me from home.”

 

“Yeah,” Keith smiled. Then he laughed, “I always had to choke back that matcha you made me drink. And you bought me a set of Korean chopsticks, the sterling ones that were too slippery for me to use.”

 

“I remember that! I had to teach you how to _use_ chopsticks.”

 

“Hey, my mom was hardly around to teach me so... I just used a fork. Plus it's not like the group homes were going to spend time instilling Korean traditions in me and-”

 

“You used to smoke, too.”

 

“You made me quit.” Keith smirked.

 

Shiro stilled while more events and memories materialized. “Wait, I vaguely remember you getting arrested...”

 

“You decided not to press charges,” Keith interrupted. “Must’ve been my pretty face.” Keith then rolled his eyes, “God, I sound like Lance.”

 

“Oh my god,” Shiro breathed, recalling the first time he set eyes on Keith. “I remember that.”

 

Keith nodded and stayed quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment. He had so many questions, but he kept them to himself. P _er usual,_ he thought.

 

“Keith, there's no way I’m going to remember everything… I don't know what to do...I-” Shiro broke off, searching again.

 

Their relationship had always been a bit one-sided anyway. Shiro made valiant efforts but had infinite obligations. While Keith... Keith only ever had Shiro.

 

The castle hummed. Foreign constellations sailed past. They sat in silence.

 

Keith finally broke it.

 

“...So...what now?”

 


	2. You decided not to press charges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Keith and Shiro met...

Keith didn’t know what came over him. It was one of the dumbest things he had ever done. But when he looked back months later, it coincidentally was the best thing he had ever done.

 

Wandering around the outskirts of the Garrison campus one Saturday morning, he couldn’t take his eyes off a red hover bike parked in a student lot. The main avenue running through downtown started across the street so students often parked their vehicles in this lot to head into town. It looked sleek and fast- and expensive.  It was probably some rich fuck’s bike; daddy probably bought it as a gift for the brat’s nineteenth birthday.  Keith had always wanted to drive one, but most states, Arizona included, enforced a minimum operating age of nineteen for small hovercraft and personal flight vehicles.  Keith was a year and a half too young. And (at least) thirty thousand dollars short.

He could steal it, really just borrow it, only for a little bit... and return it within an hour. The kid was probably downtown shopping, catching a movie, having brunch with his rich family visiting for the weekend. Although boosting the hover bike would constitute as grand theft…

 

Keith was trying to do things right this time around. He had to keep his discipline issues to a minimum if he wanted to maintain his scholarship at the Garrison. When he was younger he’d stolen his fair share of cheap electric bikes. He helped some “friends” boost a hover car a couple of times but had never driven off with the vehicle. He mostly did it out of boredom and just to see if he could do it. And he’d done his fair share of community service and time at juvenile detention facilities as he was passed from group homes to foster homes and back to group homes. _Ugh_ , he cringed thinking of all those motivational speakers he had to listen to at correctional “retreats.”

 

He wondered if the wiring to this bike was similar to what he’d seen on other vehicles and approached the bike. Just to humor himself. It was Japanese and the access panel was a little different, but still looked easy enough to remove… It was early enough in the morning, no one would notice. Plus, the rich kid’s parents could afford a new one…

 

\-----

 

Five minutes later Keith had the cool desert morning air in his face, blowing in his hair; his adrenaline rush giving way to the bliss of freedom, being away from the constant confines, rules, and watchful eyes of the Garrison. He could stop where he wanted to admire rock formations, valleys, or dunes. The desolation was comforting. The speed was exhilarating. The fact that he could effortlessly fly this thing was even more exciting. Flight simulations at the Galaxy Garrison didn’t begin until next quarter and he still had another semester after that to actually fly a small aircraft with an instructor.

 

He sped on, away from civilization. If he had regular access to something like this maybe he’d feel less on edge, less trapped at school. He wouldn’t be limited to the metrobus in town to take him as far as he could get from the Garrison, which was only six miles out after the damn thing made all of its stops through town. He guessed that’s why he always ran away when he was younger. As soon as he felt like others were more in control than he was of his own life, he felt the need to escape. But he had to remind himself that he wanted the Garrison. This time was different. He had searched and applied for every grant and scholarship they offered for the “underserved.” Flight was the ultimate freedom in Keith’s eyes.

 

He found a small hill where he could stop and take in a decent view of the desert. The sun felt hotter now. He checked his phone; he’d been out for almost two hours, way longer than he anticipated. The owner would notice the bike was missing eventually. Keith took a deep breath and took one last moment to himself and started scheming. Maybe he could try identifying a pattern for when the bike was left in the lot; he could lift it for an hour every weekend. If he could look up the license plate and figure out who it belonged to, he could even attempt to find a class schedule in the Garrison directory. And the look on the stupid rich kid’s face would be priceless when he wouldn’t be able to figure out why his craft was significantly dustier than everyone else's in the lot. Keith smiled to himself at the thought but when he turned to scramble down the hill back to the bike, his stomach dropped.

 

A police craft.  And two officers waiting, cross-checking the hover bike’s serial number… Keith cursed under his breath. He was fucked. He was _so_ fucked. And he was going to be in such deep shit if these police officers notified the Garrison.

 

“Good morning, this your bike, son?”

 

“Umm, it’s…” Keith struggled to make up a logical excuse why he’d have this bike in the middle of the desert. “My friend, uh -”

 

“Your friend?” The officer laughed. “Your ‘friend’ reported it stolen.”

 

_Shit._

 

“You’re going to have to come with us,” the second officer stated as he readied his handcuffs.

 

“Are those… necessary? I’m not gonna do anything, I’m not resisting.” Keith held up his hands.

 

“Sorry, standard protocol, kid.”

 

_Kid._

 

Keith sat in the back of the police vehicle, the hover bike hitched and trailing behind as he watched the Garrison campus slowly come into view. They bypassed cadet dorms and the upperclassmen apartments, driving straight to the junior officers’ block.

 

 _Shit, it was a Garrison officer’s bike, after all,_ Keith thought.

 

They pulled up to the security booth and one of the police officers got out. Keith strained to listen above the whirring of the vehicle’s engine, he wanted to be prepared for who he had to face. Maybe he knew the person, although likely not. Keith didn’t really get to know many people; it didn't feel worth the time and effort. They never stayed in his life for long anyway.

 

“Morning, I'm Officer Connelley,” the officer introduced himself as he flashed his badge and then glanced at the police report on his tablet. “I’m looking for a.. uh… Captain Shirogane.”

 

 _Name sounds familiar,_ but Keith couldn’t place a face.

 

The security officer winced at the butchered pronunciation. “He’s off today.”

 

“Well, he filed a police report for a stolen hover bike not too long ago. My partner and I located it. It’s hitched to our vehicle and we need to get back to the station, so he’ll need to claim it at the impound if I can’t get a hold of him soon. He hasn’t answered the contact number he left in the report.”

 

“Oh, um, OK. I’m not supposed to tell people where officers are on their days off but he’s actually my buddy, so... He’s probably at East Griffin Fitness at the end of strip.”

 

“Alright, thanks for your help. That’s on the way to the station anyway.”

 

They drove into town and parked in front of a ridiculous MMA gym with red banners flanking the entrance and a terrible tiger logo. Keith rolled his eyes and cursed. _Fuck, of course this guy is a meathead._

 

The other policeman, Officer Diaz, looked back at Keith. “Come on. Out.”

 

“What? Don’t you just take me to the station?” he protested.

 

“No, not for my underage perps, I like them to meet the people they’ve committed crimes against. Makes them connect people and victims to their crimes. Makes you think next time. There’s actually research that supports this. It reduces odds of repeat offence by-”

 

Connelley interrupted. “Seriously? This kid doesn’t care, man. Let’s get this over with so I can get back.”

 

So, Keith walked into muscle-milk-bro-gym-of-doom behind two police officers fighting through waves of nausea, playing out scenarios in his head. Would this guy punch him in the nose or the gut first? Which hurts worse? Would the Garrison order suspension? Surely not expulsion… right?

 

“Excuse me, I’m looking for Captain Shiro- uh, Shirogane?” The officer attempted to correct his pronunciation to the buff bro at the front desk. Said bro looked around and waved down the attention of another bro. O _nly with a thicker neck, if that’s even possible,_ Keith thought.

 

Gym-obsessed meatheads were NOT Keith’s style. He curled his upper lip in disdain as buff bro number one stared him down as they walked past. If he was going to get the shit beat out of him, he might as well make him well aware of his low tolerance for his type.

 

The most god awful techno was playing. A few fighting rings lined the left side of the gym, punching bags and speed bags scattered throughout. Weights, mirrors, and energy drinks galore. Keith was in hell. Absolute hell.

 

They neared the back and buff bro number two shouted to a man standing outside of the locker room with his back to Keith and the policemen. “Hey yo, Shiro! There’s some people looking for ya.”

 

The man turned around and met Keith’s stare with concerned grey eyes. Gorgeous, shining, grey eyes and a wisp of hair hanging in front of his right eye in an adorable way that made Keith hold his breath. The man’s eyes moved to the police officers and he walked forward. Keith’s brain all but stopped processing and everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Even the crappy music seemed to fade.

 

The junior officer couldn’t have been that much older than Keith. He was Asian, probably 6’4”, the sides of his head were shaved and faded into jet black hair. He was wearing a grey henley tee that wasn’t meant to be tight, but really, there was no other way for clothing to look with this guy’s build. The worn neck of the tee was wide enough to reveal the contour of his collarbone and the ball chain necklace of his officer's dog tags. Holding a plaid flannel in his hand, he shouldered his gym duffel as he neared. Keith’s brain slowly came back online as he willed himself not stare at the captain’s pecs. Or collarbone. Or… _god stop it!_ For a brief moment he'd forgotten that this was the hover bike's owner who was more than capable of beating the shit out of him.

 

“Hello, Captain? We located your bike.”

 

Relief spread over the young captain’s face. “Oh, that’s amazing! Is it outside?”

 

“Yes, we-” The officer stopped short as the captain jogged towards the entrance and out of the building.

 

Keith did not watch his ass in those black joggers one bit.

 

Outside, Captain Shirogane circled the bike. “I can’t tell you guys how relieved I am. Thank you so much. This bike kind of has some sentimental value. I’m so grateful. Sorry, I didn’t get your names,” he said reaching to shake the officers’ hands.

 

“Not a problem, sir. It’s what we do. I’m Officer Diaz, this is Officer Connelley.”

 

“Oh my god, I can’t even-” Shiro’s infectious smile faded as he met Keith’s eyes again. “Who’s he?”

 

“Oh, this is the offender. This is… Keith Kogane,” the officer read from Keith’s ID. We like our younger ones to meet the victims of their crimes. Reduces repeat offenses. There’s research that shows-” Officer Diaz cut his spiel off after a jab in the ribs from his partner. “Agh...so, anyway. Do you want to press charges? I’ve got everything pulled up on my tablet.”

 

Captain Shiro studied Keith’s eyes. “You a cadet? Second year? Third year?” he asked, tilting his head upward and taking on a more authoritative tone.

 

Keith hesitated. “Yes, sir,” he sighed. “Second.”

 

Shiro nodded in contemplation. He walked around the bike again, studying it, furrowing his eyebrows. “You ever flown one of these things before?”

 

“No.” Keith was quite the conversationalist as he looked at the ground.

 

With a cocked eyebrow, Shiro continued his inspection. “There’s not a scratch on the thing, you sure?”

 

Keith smirked. “There’s one scratch on the left side panel, but it was already there. Looks like it got away from you accelerating into a sharp turn.” _Fuck, why did I have to say it like that?!_ Keith cursed himself.

 

Shiro laughed out loud. He fucking laughed. Keith looked up in confusion. “You’re right, it did. Second time I ever took it out,” he reminisced. “I was going to get it detailed but I left it. Adds character. And it serves as a reminder of where overconfidence and inexperience can get you.”

 

 _Shit, well…_ Keith felt like a complete idiot but couldn’t bring himself to look away. The captain was too beautiful, eyes serious but playful underneath. _This dude could take a swing at you any minute, stop drooling. Stop staring!_

 

“Um sorry, Captain,” Connelley interrupted. “I don’t want to rush you, but if you want to press charges, there’s some forms that we need your e-signature on and we’ll just be on our way so we can take the kid down to the station.”

 

A tension-filled pause filled the air as Shiro and Keith stared each other down. Shiro’s eyes narrowed, looked Keith up and down, and then turned to the police officers. “Nah, it’s OK. We all make mistakes.” Then he sternly addressed Keith. “Looks like you’ve got a bit of natural talent, handling a hover bike without any prior experience, but don't ruin it for yourself. Stay out of trouble. I won’t let it go next time.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Keith mumbled. "Thank you."

 

Shiro started the hover bike once the officers unhitched it. He glanced over at Keith one last time, eyes flitting down to the handcuffs as Officer Diaz entered the code to disengage them. He revved the engine once and sped back towards the Garrison.

 

After the officers left, Keith breathed a sigh of relief and meandered back to his dorm, collecting his thoughts. His heart was still pounding by the time he returned to campus; he couldn’t tell if it was residual from the tense situation or from being in the young captain’s presence. He told himself it was the former.

 

\-----

 

Rather than stopping at his dorm, Keith strolled through the corridors of the aviation building, stopping at the flight simulator atrium. Next to a few screens that highlighted photos from the Garrison’s inauguration, was a screen of all time best flight sim scores. That’s how he knew the name… At the top of this list, Takashi Shirogane. Keith had overheard the stories: Shirogane was a prodigy, graduated early, was promoted quickly, and was the favorite of the candidates being considered for the next proposed Kerberos mission. The guy was a legend… and Keith had made the worst impression possible.  He stole the guy’s hover bike. Oh wait... and insulted his flying skills.

 

_Smooth, idiot. At least I've gone two years without running into him. Should be easy to avoid him from here on out, right?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how police/DOC procedures work, so sorry if this is very unrealistic. I have a friend in NYPD i could've asked but then i'd need to explain myself, haha.


	3. I didn’t think you’d remember my name

Two weeks went by without a Captain Shirogane sighting. Keith even avoided parking lots. All parking lots. Keith was actually content with the mundanity and predictability of his normal class schedule for once.

 

It was the end of the week and Keith was in Aerospace Physics waiting for class to start. The midterm was on Monday and the professor, Dr. Yeh, always held a review session prior to her notoriously difficult exams. The professor was too smart for her own good and was hard to follow so the review was crucial to break down the necessary topics to focus on. While the subject matter came fairly easily to Keith, he couldn’t take chances. A minimum of a C+ was required to schedule any flight classes for next quarter; anything less than a B+ and you were more likely to be assigned to cargo-class. Keith would accept nothing less than fighter class.

 

Five minutes passed. Dr. Yeh was never late. The entire class seemed on edge and started getting louder and louder as they speculated as to her whereabouts.

 

Finally, a physics department secretary stepped in the room. “I’m so sorry but Dr. Yeh had an emergency come up, I’ve been trying to locate another faculty member or even an officer willing to lead the review since the department can’t push back the midterm. So bear with us, I’ll have someone here in a bit.” The entire class groaned. Keith shook his head. This was bullshit. If the review was cancelled and affected his grade...

 

Another five minutes passed and two students walked out.

 

Finally, an officer in the standard olive drab uniform strolled in. “Alright, alright, alright.”

 

Keith froze at the voice.

 

The movie quote was met with silence. “Seriously guys? That movie was before my time as well but it’s a pop culture classic. I know you guys are studying this weekend but your homework tonight is to YouTube _Dazed and Confused_ ,” the substitute joked. “Anyway, sorry about class starting late, I had to wrap up some things before I came over. I’m Captain Shirogane, you can just call me Shiro. I located Dr. Yeh’s review files and some old exams we can go over. Sound good?”

 

The entire class stared open-mouthed. Keith overheard the whispers: “I told you it was him” and “I can’t believe it!”

 

“Ok, I’ll take that as a yes,” Shiro laughed, casually sitting on top of the desk up front.

 

Keith couldn’t breathe. Luckily he sat all the way in the back. He ducked his head. If he laid low, he could maybe get out of this unscathed.

 

“So, I think I took this class… six years ago?  I know it’s a lot of stuff to memorize now but you’ll know it like the back of your hand in a few years. It’ll all fall into place especially when you start flight sims. The secret is to know the concepts and you’ll be able to solve every problem on the exam. You don’t need to memorize ‘1+2=3’ when you understand the concept of addition. Makes sense?”

 

They reviewed the basics of motion, velocity, acceleration, lift, and equilibrium. Shiro was actually a good teacher and used real-life examples to demonstrate how he’d applied the concepts during flight. His contagious smile and natural charisma didn’t hurt either. Nor did the way his uniform slightly stretched across his biceps…

 

_Focus._

 

“OK, so this is a common question on Dr. Yeh’s exams. You’ll also see similar questions on the comp exam and probably the licensure exam as well. ‘You are flying a USG-690 fully equipped, which means that your aircraft weighs 52,500 pounds.’ OK, this is why you need to be tight with your mechanic because they will best understand the machine you’re flying, the equipment you’re carrying, and any cargo you picked up or dropped off. ‘You want to maintain equilibrium in straight and level flight at an altitude of 30,000 feet, cruising at 400 knots to conserve fuel. The aircraft's wing area is 1,140 square feet. At what angle of attack should the aircraft be set to maintain equilibrium?’”

 

Crickets...

 

“Come on guys. We just reviewed all this stuff. You can look at the velocity curve I drew on the smartboard, it’ll be provided on the midterm.”

 

Keith quickly computed the answer but kept quiet which was standard classroom protocol for him anyway.

 

“No one?” Shiro looked around. He stood up from leaning on the desk, crossed his arms and smirked. “How about my friend in the back? It’s Keith, right?”

 

 _Fuck. What the… Seriously?!_ Did Shiro actually think he knew the answer or was he trying to embarrass him?

 

“Um, yeah…” Keith replied, heart pounding, as the entire class turned to face Keith with disbelief on their faces.

 

“How do you know him?” the girl in front of him mouthed.

 

“Uh. You’d need an angle of attack of one… I’m assuming the problem is based on Earth? I didn’t factor in any different atmospheric resistance or lack thereof if you were on, like say, Europa or Juno...um... yeah.”

 

Shiro raised his eyebrows, possibly trying to hide his surprise. “Sounds like you guys need to have Keith here lead some study groups this weekend. Yes, that’s correct, good job. So, I’ll give you guys a minute to figure out how he got that and then we’ll try another one.”

 

Keith tried to pay attention, but holy shit, it was hard to sit still. He was excited that he'd demonstrated his capabilities, possibly convinced Shiro that he wasn’t a deadbeat that stole shit on campus after all. Still, he kept quiet the rest of class. Best not to draw too much attention to himself.

 

“OK, here’s another example of a frequent question on the midterm. And Keith can’t save you guys this time.” Keith couldn’t help feel a little warm at the mention of his name again. It sounded good when Shiro said it.

 

\-----

 

By the end of the class, the students were fully engaged. Everyone was participating; Shiro encouraging, joking with the class. They got off topic from the midterm review and students were debating wormhole travel with him, asking for tips for the licensure exam, and digging for dirt on some of the senior officers and faculty.

 

_Damn him for being such a likable guy._

 

A tone signaled the end of class and Keith was faced with a dilemma. He could either run out as fast as he could and hope to not be noticed. Or he could hang back, hopefully Shiro would hurry back to whatever he was doing beforehand, and Keith could exit stage left with zero confrontation. Keith decided on the latter.

 

“Alright, go. Be great. Or at least do well on Monday so I don’t feel like a complete failure,” Shiro announced to the class with his adorable grin. More than half the class stayed back. Some students waited to introduce themselves to Shiro. A group of girls crowded around him giggling at anything he said. Keith anxiously waited, pretending to pack his bag slowly. He should have left as soon as the bell sounded but he’d already committed at this point. The mass of bodies up front eventually thinned out but Shiro stayed… _Ugh, leave already._

 

Keith fidgeted some more with his bag, pretended to read something important on his tablet- “Hey, I need to lock up since Dr. Yeh isn’t coming back, so the longer you hang out back there, the longer you’re going to draw this out,” Shiro finally spoke up. His authoritative tone from their initial encounter had returned.

 

“Oh, yeah, I was just- Yeah, I’m going,” Keith stuttered.

 

“You surprised me, you know your stuff.”

 

“Uh, thanks. I actually do pay attention.”

 

“Good to hear. Good luck on Monday.”

 

“Thanks…”

 

Keith turned on his heel and walked towards the door. _Well, that was a brilliant display of intelligent conversation,_  he thought. He heard the door close behind him and willed himself not to sneak another glance at Shiro.

 

His heart was racing again. He needed a cigarette STAT. Reaching for his pack of cigarettes and turning to head out the courtyard exit, he heard Shiro speak up behind him. “You know those things are terrible for you, right?”

 

Keith bristled. He didn’t care how hot this guy was, he didn’t need to be lectured about his bad habits right now. “I only do it when-. Nevermind. I don’t do it that often.” Keith continued to avoid eye contact by facing the door.

 

“Yeah, but the Garrison won’t let you pack a year’s supply of nicotine patches on any space missions. Something to start thinking about, aside from health benefits…obviously.”

 

“Obviously.” Keith parroted. He shrugged and shoved the door open to walk into the warming noon sun. He knew it was a bad way to end the conversation but his defensive instincts always kicked in during situations like that. Keith told himself he didn’t care what the Captain thought of him anyway.   


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know nothing about flight, aeronautics and all that jazz so I stole Shiro’s question from the NASA website, thanks and credit to good ol NASA: https://www.grc.nasa.gov/www/k-12/WindTunnel/Activities/lift_formula.html


	4. Pleased to meet you

“Please come with me.”

 

“You know I hate parties. I hate talking to people. Why would I stand in a house  _full_ of people I don't know and don't care to know. _And_ feel obligated to attempt to talk to,” Keith argued. “Where are your girls anyway?”

 

“They’re staying in and doing movie night. Come on, there’ll be cute boys there. I promise.”

 

Keith contemplated and engaged in a stare down with the only person he'd bothered to get to know at the Garrison as they huddled closely together to blow cigarette smoke out Keith's dorm window.  Celine was one of the few girls in the engineering and mechanics track at the Garrison.  They had bonded over their equally above average levels of cynicism and angst on their smoke breaks during Design and Circuitry last year.  

 

“You should try to meet someone at the Garrison, seriously. You know you’ll have a common interest at the very least.”

 

“What, dick?”

 

“Ugh. Space exploration, flight, that kinda shit.”

 

Keith remained silent, scowling at his friend.

 

Celine sighed and in her signature monotone sarcasm, “OK fine, I'll go all by myself and get roofied.”

 

“Dude, you can't joke about that stuff.”

 

“So you’ll come with me?”

 

“How do you know your boy will even be there?”

 

“Because it's a party for Sergeant Erikson’s promotion and this guy is roommates with Erikson. So, he has to be there.”

 

“OK fine but we're not staying if he’s not there.”

 

“Up for debate once we assess the party. We should at least celebrate the end of midterm week with some free alcohol. Kay?”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Are you just going to wear that?” Celine wrinkled her nose.

 

“Yeah, unlike you, I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard,” Keith teased.

 

“Are you telling me I look slutty? I’ll kill you. At least put on your tight grey jeans. Oh, and the burgundy V-neck tee.”

 

\-----

 

The house party was in one of the off-campus townhouses that many officers wound up moving into. Keith shivered as they approached the house. The spring nights in the desert were still chilly. He should’ve worn his damn hoodie.

 

Celine dragged him into the house. It was fairly crowded and Keith didn’t see any familiar faces. It looked like mostly junior officers. They did a scan around the kitchen after grabbing beer from the fridge and getting some suspicious glances, then made their way into the living area. Keith didn’t even know what this guy looked like. “I’m going to look upstairs,” Celine shouted over the music.

 

“You are not going upstairs by yourself, that’s where the shady stuff goes down.”

 

They moved from room to room on the second level and again, no sign of the boy of interest.

 

“OK, can we go now? This crappy music is hurting my head,” Keith complained as they headed back downstairs.

 

Celine looked around the room again and pointed to sliding doors that lead to a porch and the backyard. “We didn’t look outside! There’s a whole party going on out there.”

 

“It’s freezing outside!” Keith argued.

 

“You’re such a baby. I’ll go really quick OK? And if I’m not back in five then I found him.”

 

Keith felt conflicted about letting his friend go outside by herself but _really_ hated being cold. “OK, hurry up. Don’t let anyone give you a drink that’s open and don’t let your drink out of your sight. Text me if you need me.”

 

“OK!” Celine shouted as she fought through the crowd to the sliding doors out back.

 

Keith nursed his beer and looked around. There were a few cute guys but they looked too straight. Keith craned his neck and spotted Celine outside. He’d probably have to stay here longer than he wanted if she ran into this boy she was trying to find. Keith scanned the room again; maybe there was someone worth talking to around here. Maybe Celine was right. The Garrison would probably be more tolerable if he had a boyfriend, or at least someone to mess around with from time to time.

 

Keith wandered to find another drink, lost in his thoughts, when he spotted a tall figure with a familiar profile in the crowd... He almost dropped his beer; it couldn’t be. The universe was really messing with him lately. Keith’s heart rate picked up and that uneasy feeling in his stomach returned. Captain Shirogane hadn’t been able to retaliate in the presence of the police officers or in front of a classroom of cadets. But at a random house party? If Keith was going to get punched in the face, tonight would probably be the night. He thought about quickly making a getaway; fuck being cold. But, Shiro glanced over and did a double take.

 

_Shit..._

 

Shiro whispered to the person he was speaking with and then started towards Keith. Neurons failed as Keith willed his body to move. He really shouldn’t have been such a dismissive asshole last time.

 

Keith gained a whole new appreciation for the phrase ‘deer in headlights’ as Shiro slowed and stopped within arm’s length, maintaining eye contact. “What are you doing here?”

 

At first, Keith struggled to form words. “Waiting for a friend. Don't worry, I'm not staying long,” he spat defensively. Keith's body finally obeyed his brain and he turned towards the door to leave. A strong grip on his bicep pulled him back and into the wall. “What the- ow!”

 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to… I pulled harder than I intended.”

 

“Underestimated your brute strength?” Keith mocked.

 

Shiro frowned and let go of Keith’s arm, then went on the offensive. “I said I was sorry. It was an accident. Actually, I don't recall _you_ saying sorry for stealing my fucking bike, excuse my language, or a thank you for not pressing charges,” Shiro ranted. “You shouldn’t even be drinking,” he decided to tack onto the end.

 

“Too late,” Keith took a swig of his bottle keeping eye contact. His brain instinctively shifted to argue-mode, but he quickly stood down and bit his tongue. Keith’s shoulders dropped as he gave in. “You're right. Sorry… about the bike... and thank you. I… would've been fucked.”

 

Awkward silence.

 

“OK... Thank you. Sorry I yelled. Uh, what I really came over here for... was just to say that the whole bike thing is in the past. I’m over it, no one was hurt, the bike’s not damaged. So… you don't need to tense up and find the nearest exit every time you see me. OK? It’s behind us.”

 

“OK...” There was another awkward silence, although Keith was able to breathe a bit easier. He looked Shiro up and down trying to think of something to say, since Shiro was obviously not ready to walk away just yet. He was wearing a grey and black buffalo plaid shirt that was half untucked with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, dark jeans, and some pretty fucking awesome high tops with a bit of purple trim. _Purple doesn’t seem like a color he’d pick,_ Keith mused.

 

“So... how did your class do on the midterm?” Shiro inquired, attempting to break the silence.

 

“Pretty well, I think. Grades posted yesterday and Dr. Yeh said she didn't have to curve. And based on the stats she posted, I think I got the highest score. So, I'm relieved, gives me some leeway on the final.”

 

“That's great, glad to hear. I'm assuming you're applying for the fighter-class license?”

 

“Yeah, if I can't get that I think I'd drop out… Although I don't really have anywhere to go, so…” Keith trailed off.

 

Shiro nodded. “You'll do fine. Where are you from anyway?”

 

Keith shrugged, “Here.”

 

“You're just... from the desert?” Shiro laughed, motioning around them. “Not many people willingly live here.”

 

“I grew up in different suburbs of LA. I mean, if you're asking about my heritage, my mom was Korean, or part-Korean. My dad-” Keith didn't want to elaborate much but Shiro was listening so intently, like he actually cared. “My dad was white, I think mostly Irish or Welsh ancestry. I didn't really know him, he was kind of a piece of shit, left when I was young. He’d randomly show up trying to make amends or trying to buy me stuff. My mom got really sick when I was eight, I don’t know what happened to her. This social services agency just picked me up one day...” Shiro furrowed his brow, expectantly waiting for more so Keith continued. “So, I was an orphan living in group homes, some foster homes, having people that hardly knew me making life decisions on my behalf. So… yeah. Sorry, you probably didn't want that much information.”

 

“No, thanks for telling me… That sounds... wow. It must've been difficult, I can't even imagine what that would be like.” Keith was completely disarmed by Shiro’s soft tone and genuine empathy. He didn’t give him that pitying face that most people did.

 

“It’s fine, I’m here now, so. Things are better, I guess. I think I’m happier. Uh, so… what about you. Why are _you_ Asian?” Keith said with a smirk, trying to lighten the mood.

 

“Ha, ‘why am I Asian?’ I’m from Japan, a city called Nagoya. I moved here... almost 11 years ago, lived with my aunt and cousins in Fresno while I went to school, got my green card, and applied to the Garrison.”

 

“Ah, you’re way more legit Asian than I am,” Keith joked. “Do you go back ever?”

 

“Yeah, at least once a year. It gets harder the more responsibility I have here though. Most of the extended family have passed away or moved here so I really just go back for my mom’s cooking these days,” Shiro said with a nostalgic smile. "Especially her rice."

 

“Yeah, we just ate standard American food. Actually, I only ate Taco Bell for a stint, but I remember my mom making really good rice from time to time... I didn't realize I missed that,” Keith reflected.

 

Shiro grinned and stepped a little closer. “So, this is silly but, you know how on Monday nights, the Garrison cafeteria always serves stir-fry? I can’t stand how they cook their rice, it’s always dry. So I eat the stir-fry, it’s tolerable, you know? But I go back to my place and make rice; my mom sent me this rice cooker years ago. It still doesn’t touch her rice though.”

 

Keith laughed, “So, you just eat rice? Every Monday?”

 

“Well, no, but yeah... I eat the vegetables and tofu in the cafeteria and then follow up with proper rice back at my apartment.”

 

“You’re right, that _is_ silly. The rice is sometimes dry but it’s not _that_ bad.”

 

“No, it’s the worst rice I’ve ever had. Ever. They don't even use the right _kind_ of rice.”

 

“OK, wow, I didn’t know you were a rice connoisseur.”

 

Shiro laughed. “Well, now you know.”

 

“Shiro!” a girl called from across the room.

 

Shiro turned. “Yeah, be there in a minute.”

 

Keith felt completely at ease with Shiro by now. He was surprisingly annoyed at the girl’s interruption and shocked at how naturally their conversation had flowed thus far. He could really get used to looking at Shiro’s smile. Keith realized that he himself had also been smiling the whole time, which was rare these days. No wonder his face hurt. “So, wait, did you take English in Japan? You don’t really have an accent.”

 

“Um, so...” Shiro leaned closer. "I _did_ have English in school… No one really knows this but… I took classes.”

 

“Right. English classes.” Keith felt this was obvious.

 

“No. Classes to... lose the accent.”

 

“Wait, what?! That’s a thing??”

 

Shiro laughed and leaned out of Keith’s personal space; Keith fought back an internal pout. “Yeah, I thought I’d be taken more seriously and thought it would help with my Garrison application. And if I didn’t get in I was going to finish public high school, get citizenship, and then apply to the Air Force or Marines so it would’ve helped there as well.” Shiro read the disbelief in Keith’s face. “Trust me, it’s a thing. A lot of people do it.”

 

“So, is it hard? Like is it work to talk with an American accent all the time?”

 

“Nah. It was at first, but it’s like second nature now.”

 

“That still blows my mind. Did it really change how people treated you?”

 

“It's kind of troubling but people talked to me like I was smarter when I had less of an accent. My family was pissed, like I was ashamed or something. But I just wanted to do whatever I could to be successful.”

 

Another party-goer walked by. “Shiro, you need another beer?”

 

“Oh, no thanks, I’m good.”

 

“Alright, man, holler if you need one.”

 

“What, too many carbs?” Keith teased.

 

“Ha, no. Too much red,” Shiro admitted, gesturing to his face. “Most of my family’s allergic. I can manage two drinks at most and then ‘Asian red face’; or I’ll just pass out.”

 

“Remind me to never spike your drinks. I’ve at least heard of that though, unlike the lose-your-accent classes.” Then, with Keith’s increasing liquid courage, he added, “I want to hear you speak Japanese.”

 

“Shiro!!!” More girls shouted across the room for his attention.

 

“Yeah, OK,” he answered. Shiro turned back to Keith. “Duty calls. I’ll see you around since that seems to be a trend lately.” Shiro took a step backwards and with a slight bow, said, “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.” 

 

Feeling braver, Keith did not hide the way he watched Shiro walk away. “What does that even mean?” he called over the crowd.

 

Shiro turned with a confident smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

 

 _Damn, he’s charming._  Keith's tunnel vision dissipated to reveal Celine standing no more than ten feet away, arms crossed.

 

“Where’ve you been? I was starting to worry,” Keith scolded, trying to distract her from noticing the blush fading from his cheeks.

 

Celine approached with a sly smirk on her face. “The guy’s not here. Fuck him, whatever. But you! I told you to meet a boy and you found a _man_!!”

 

“Shh... we were just talking. He seems pretty straight anyway.”

 

“You were smiling the _whole_ time. He’s gorgeous! Oh my god, who is he?”

 

“Uh… you’ve heard of Captain Shirogane, right?”

 

“Wait what?! Why didn’t you introduce me? You selfish bastard,” Celine joked as she swatted Keith's arm. “OK, let’s smuggle a few more beers out of here and you tell me everything when we get back to the dorms.”

 

Keith grinned and nodded his head with a giddy feeling rising in his chest. The initial interest and curiosity Keith held for Shiro slowly building into the foundation of a crush. Just a slight one. He was not going to become obsessed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there’s multiple ways to say “pleased to meet you” in Japanese, all with different implications and for different situations. I’m not an expert and just went with what I remembered from the Japanese I took in school a long time ago. Hajimemashite may have been the more appropriate version to say in this situation but I also wanted shiro to say something that sounded more complex? Longer? I don’t know.


	5. I had to teach you how to use chopsticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, a word from Shiro (who is much harder to write for, probably because I’m not using so much foul language!)

Shiro contemplated the half-cup of uncooked rice measured before him. If this kid, boy, guy… whatever, actually showed up then he'd need a full cup. It felt presumptuous to start with the full cup though, because he might not show. Shiro didn't even know what had come over him; people tend to exchange phone numbers before addresses. He vacillated among his unclear intentions and the questionable yet tempting position he'd put himself in. Did he simply want to be a positive figure in the kid's life? Did he just see untamed potential that required a mentor? Shiro shivered. This beautiful but temperamental person was likely way too young for him to be having any other intentions. Plus, he kept his personal life separate from his Garrison life.

 

It wasn’t that Shiro was hiding something, he just didn’t want to be treated any differently for his sexual preferences. Some of the senior officers were still fairly “traditional” and Shiro would NOT be overlooked for a mission because of something they misconceived as a weakness or… god knows what prejudices they held. His family already knew he was bisexual and he told himself the more influence he had at the Garrison, the easier it would be to be open about it. But here he was, now a captain, and no one on this campus knew that Shiro’s attraction to people did not revolve around gender. Shiro found it ironic that he was “friends” with everyone and yet most of those people knew very little about him.

 

But, back to the matter at hand: half cup or full cup of rice? He landed on a full cup, he'd use the leftovers throughout the week if Keith didn't show up. He poured water in his electric kettle for tea as he played through the series of events that had him in his apartment slightly on edge, making a double portion of rice.

 

Today was “stir fry” Monday, about a week and a half after he'd successfully made amends with Keith at Sergeant (now Lieutenant) Erikson’s promotion party. He realized why the kid bristled whenever they encountered each other; Shiro hadn’t meant to intimidate him but he couldn’t just let the theft of his bike go like nothing was wrong. It was out of principle. Although he recognized the kid’s potential and knew that pressing charges would affect his opportunities at the Garrison. When he called on Keith in class, it was just to mess with him but it wound up making things worse. He’d tried to make peace but the kid lashed out whenever Shiro approached him; luckily that was behind them… at least he hoped. Shiro still didn’t know what had come over him earlier today. He never invited people to his place.

 

He was with a few friends and fellow officers, grabbing vegetable stir fry (hold the rice) in the cafeteria when Shiro spotted the familiar long black hair and lean figure sitting among the crowd, eating alone. He strolled over and rapped on the table top next to Keith’s tray to grab his attention but hopefully not startle him. “How’s your food?”  


Keith looked up, slightly taken off guard. “Hey,” he finally said with a hesitant smile. “It’s pretty average. I’m not as picky as you though.”

 

Shiro smiled back. “Well, you know what _I’m_ doing later.”

 

“Making rice. Weirdo.” Keith playfully rolled his eyes.

 

“It pains me that you don’t appreciate the grain’s full potential,” Shiro joked, clutching at his heart. “You’re welcome to come by if you want.” _Wait a minute, that’s probably not a good idea._

 

“You’re gonna make me rice?”

 

“I’m making _myself_ rice, you’re welcome to partake in my home cooking is all.” Shiro balanced his tray with one hand. “Let me see your phone.”

 

Keith cocked an eyebrow but unlocked it and handed it over. Shiro opened a blank text and typed in his address. “I’m in the junior officer’s block on North Campus.” Then he glanced up to see the rest of Keith’s table staring at their interaction, a few mouths hanging open. “See you later maybe?”

 

Keith stared at his phone, possibly with a look of... disbelief? Shiro couldn’t tell. “Um, yeah, maybe...”

 

\-----

 

The water kettle clicked off and brought Shiro back to the present. He started preparing his tea when “system” announced someone at the door. Rather than telling system to let the visitor in, Shiro walked over and disengaged the door himself. “I didn’t think you’d come.” Shiro smiled at Keith.

 

“Well, you won’t shut up about your damn rice so, I figured I needed to try it.”

 

Keith had changed out of his white and orange cadet uniform and just had on jeans and a black tee that slightly hung off his lithe frame. Shiro willed himself not to stare. “Oh, if you don’t mind, take your shoes off. Thanks.”

 

Keith looked down at Shiro’s barefeet. “Uh, I wish I’d known, don’t laugh at my ridiculous mismatched socks. Don’t your feet get cold?”

 

“Nah, I’m used to it. Tea?” Shiro offered as he walked back into his kitchen.

 

“I’m more of a coffee person, but I’ll try it.” Keith followed Shiro into the kitchen and peered into Shiro’s cup as he whisked his matcha, their shoulders brushing ever so slightly. “Why is it cloudy?”

 

“It’s matcha. It’s a powdered green tea.” Keith wrinkled his nose in response, still sizing up the tea. “Just try it,” Shiro said, handing over a mug. Shiro watched Keith sip his tea and wander the open plan apartment. “Are you hungry, do you need anything more than rice?” Shiro called from the kitchen.

 

Keith sat on a barstool at the island that separated the living area from the kitchen. “If I say yes… what are you going to make me, a protein shake or something?”

 

Shiro eyed him up to see if Keith still was a little bitter from the prior encounters. “No, I was going to make you sushi, or some ramen, maybe a whole bento box...” Shiro narrowed his eyes, returning the sarcasm.

 

“Oh, you should make those sushi rolls but with a protein bar instead of fish inside.”

 

“They’re called maki, that sounds disgusting, and I don’t have protein bars.”

 

“Are you sure? I bet if I raided your kitchen I’d find at least one protein bar.” Keith smirked.

 

“Now I’m kicking myself for not stopping by the Asian market in town to pick up kimchi for you.”

 

Keith furrowed his brow. “The fuck is kimchi?”

 

“How do you not know what kimchi is? You are the worst Korean I’ve ever met.”

 

“Uh, Kim Jong-il was probably worse than me,” Keith returned. “And I don’t _try_ to be Korean.”

 

Shiro laughed, “OK, enough with the stereotypes. Although I’m seriously going to make you try kimchi sometime. Just for that protein shake comment.” This kid was going to keep him on his toes. Luckily the rice was done so he could distract himself with something to do.

 

“What are you listening to? Do you only listen to old music and watch old movies?” Keith said with mild disdain.

 

_I am a passenger_   
_I stay under glass_   
_I look through my window so bright_   
_I see the stars come out tonight_

 

“Come on, you should know Iggy Pop.” Then Shiro laughed. “My mom always said I was an old soul. System, play Pink Floyd-.”

 

“Absolutely not!” Keith interjected.

 

“System, play Lynyrd Skynyrd-.”

 

“Holy fucking-”

 

“OK, system, play...” Shiro eyed Keith. “Kings of Leon.”

 

Keith didn’t put up a fight so Shiro assumed that was an acceptable band to play. Of course when he heard the opening riffs to “Sex on Fire,” Shiro coughed and blushed. “System, next song.”

 

Keith was amused and met Shiro’s eyes with a mischievous grin as “Use Somebody” replaced the prior song. “You just call it ‘System?' Everyone else names their home OS.”

 

Shiro shook his head while portioning the rice. “It’s not a person, it doesn’t need a name. Fork or chopsticks?”

 

“I’ve never used chopsticks in my life.”

 

“What?” Shiro said in disbelief. He dug a fork out of the drawer and pointed at Keith with it while he spoke. “You’re allowed to use this for now, but I’m teaching you how to use chopsticks.”

 

Keith laughed, taking the fork and bowl of rice. “Challenge accepted.” Keith then stared at the rice. “You just eat this plain?  Do you have soy sauce?”

 

“Do not desecrate my rice! It’s not supposed to have anything on it. Although, if you really need something…” Shiro searched his fridge. “Here.” He placed a bottle of tamari on the countertop.

 

“Jeez, all right. You really don’t fuck around with rice.” They had lightly bickered the entire time but Keith seemed amused by it so Shiro went along for the ride.

 

Keith took a bite of rice. “You’re right, this is better than cafeteria rice.” He took another mouthful, closed his eyes, and was silent for a while. He took a deep whiff of the rice and then opened his eyes. He stared at the bowl for a while and Shiro wondered if he should be worried. Finally, Keith said with an air of nostalgia, “The smell and the taste of the rice... I don't’ know, it just reminded me of my mom. I remember shoveling in rice, watching cartoons while she got ready for work…” Shiro smiled warmly, glad that Keith had quickly opened up given their rough start. Then Keith motioned at Shiro’s chopsticks with his fork. “You gonna show me how to use those things?”

 

“Yeah, OK.” Shiro grabbed another pair out of the drawer and leaned across the island. “So... wait, it’s easier if I look at it from your angle, hang on.” Shiro walked around the island and behind Keith, moving his arm in front of Keith to hold the chopsticks. He may or may not have noticed Keith holding his breath while Shiro's mouth hovered mere inches from Keith's right ear. He placed a chopstick in Keith’s hand. “Hold one like you’re writing, I know we don’t do it that much these days, but-” Shiro’s hand wrapped around Keith’s as he gave him the other chopstick. “Keep the first one stationary and hold the second with your thumb and index finger. Only move the second one to pick things up. With rice, though, you more or less just scoop and keep the sticks parallel.” Shiro paused and noted how sweet Keith smelled. Shaking his head of his Keith-induced daze, he quickly stepped away.

 

“I... uh. I... think I got it,” Keith stuttered, looking a little flustered as well.

 

“You’re doing it right, it just takes practice now,” Shiro said, trying to distract himself again. He walked back around the island to resume standing an appropriate distance from the cadet.

 

“Yeah… still kind of a bitch. So, how the hell do you learn to eat with chopsticks when you’re a kid?”

 

“Ha, we get smaller chopsticks but basically it’s like, figure it out or go hungry. Still need soy sauce?”

 

“I’m good, thanks” Keith said. “Hey, I noticed the sword you have above the couch. What’s it from?”

 

“Oh, the city I’m from has a lot of samurai history. My grandfather was a Kenjutsu master and had a whole collection of katana swords. He left me a few when he passed, but this is the only one I brought to the States along with a bamboo practice sword. The rest my mom has in storage back home.”

 

Keith’s eyes widened. “Do you know how to use it?”

 

“Ah, I used to practice with the bamboo sword when I was younger but it’s been a while. I’ve gotten more into boxing lately,” Shiro admitted.

 

“Hence the protein bars…” Keith teased. “Well, if you ever decide to practice, let me know so I can learn too.”

 

“All right, yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” He knew he should leave it at this, but he had an idea. “Actually, on a similar note, I have some time reserved in the flight sim at the end of the week… If you want to mess around- uh you know- try it out, I can show you some things.”

 

Keith looked up, mouth open, “Seriously?! That would be so fucking amazing!”

 

“Cool.” Shiro pulled up his schedule on his phone. “It’s Friday at 21:00. I always grab the off-hours times so people don’t bother me while I’m in the sim.”

 

“No, that works.” Keith looked giddy.

 

“You sure? I can try and find an earlier time if you’ve got plans to crash another party or have a date or something.”

 

“Trust me, I’m wide open. I don’t really hang out with many people here.”

 

“Yeah?” Again, Shiro knew he should leave it alone, but he was curious. “Who was the cute brunette I saw you leave the party with?”

 

“Oh, Celine? Oh, she’s awesome, but we’re friends. She’s… not really my type...” Keith looked Shiro in the eye as he finished his sentence.

 

Shiro looked down to break eye contact. He now had some information that he was not supposed to be looking for in the first place. He cleared his throat. “So, I unfortunately have some research to finish for a mission proposal. Where’s your dorm? I’ll give you a ride back on the bike.”

 

Keith looked a little disappointed but Shiro, the paragon of self-control, had to stop himself here.

 

“I’m good, it’s only like a fifteen-minute walk, thanks though,” Keith said. Shiro hoped he wasn’t hearing dejection in his voice. “Thanks for the rice, too.”

 

Shiro walked him to the door. “You’re sure?”

 

“Yeah… thanks again.” Shiro watched Keith walk out.

 

“See you Friday in the atrium,” Shiro called while Keith waited for the elevator.

 

“See you Friday.” Keith waved with a slight smile.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos! especially since it’s been a ridiculously long time since i’ve done any sort of creative writing. The rice “desecration” line is a reference for my significant other who was scolded in Kamakura for putting soy sauce on his rice.


	6. You taught me to focus

“He said I was cute?!” Celine squealed.

 

“Oh my god, get over yourself. This isn't about you.” Keith couldn't help but grin while recounting this visit to Shiro's apartment.

 

Celine plopped down on Keith's bed. “I know, I’m so self-absorbed. You know what he was trying to find out, right? He's trying to figure out if you're into boys or girls.”

 

“I think it's pretty obvious what my sexual preferences are. His are a little more...nebulous. He’s hard to get a read on.”

 

“I still can't believe you were at his place! And all you did was eat rice and drink tea!” she laughed.

 

“Stop.” Keith looked down but couldn't hide his embarrassed smile.

 

“And… _and_ I can't believe you didn’t accept a ride. You would've had the perfect excuse to wrap your arms around him and run your fingers over that six-pack-”

 

“OK, thats enough out of you. I feel a little weird about the bike still.” Keith checked the time on his phone. “I need to get going.”

 

“I expect a full report.” Celine got up to leave. Keith gave her a mock salute and then closed his door behind them.

 

\-----

 

Keith checked the time on his phone again, waiting outside the sim atrium. He pegged Shiro for a punctual person but the guy was fifteen minutes late. The longer he waited the more his excitement turned into anxiety. Maybe he forgot. Maybe something more important had come up. 

 

Finally, he spotted Shiro walking over, still in uniform with his bomber jacket in hand. He flashed Keith a big smile and turned him into a puddle. That is, until a young blonde girl intercepted him. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Keith muttered impatiently, although he was also intrigued to observe the interaction. Anything to get him more answers. Keith pulled his earbuds out. He couldn't hear much, just saw lots of smiling, the girl using any excuse to touch Shiro on the arm. She handed him a report of some sort, then appeared to be waving goodbye, and Shiro… His hand was on the small of her back as he gave her an even bigger smile. Keith's jealousy subsided, however, when Shiro started walking towards him and rolled his eyes.

 

“Ugh, sorry,” he said with an exasperated sigh as he neared.

 

“I was gonna text you to make sure we were still on but then I realized I can't text your address…” Keith said sarcastically holding up his phone displaying Shiro’s incomplete contact entry.

 

“Well, that would help, right?” Shiro said, grabbing the phone and entering his number. “Text me later so I can save your number. What are you listening to?”

 

“Actually, I wound up checking out Pink Floyd the other night, I’m kinda hooked on _The Wall._ ”

 

“That album is epic. My favorite is _Dark Side of the Moon,_ though. You should check that out next. I’m really sorry about being late. The programming girl was rambling about something while I was trying to leave. And,” he added, pointing in the direction he came from, “that's the communications assistant that's always pulling me aside for random crap that I don't even take care of. I swear I left my office on time.”

 

“You gotta keep your fan girls in check,” Keith teased.

 

Shiro just blushed slightly and shook his head as he led the way to the security desk to check in.

 

“Oh, there's my favorite pilot!” the security guard said.

 

“Hi Tara,” Shiro said in a sing-song tone that made Keith shoot him an ‘are you serious’ look. Shiro just furrowed his brow at Keith. “I want to take a smaller copilot sim instead of the intergalactic sim if that's OK.”

 

Tara looked at the schedule and frowned. “I can change it, but it’s giving me a message saying that this session won’t go towards your mission application hours. You OK with that?”

 

“That's fine, I’ll make up the hours.”

 

“OK. You two have flight simulator D9, then.”

 

“Thank you, Tara,” Shiro winked.

 

“Oh no, thank _you_ , sweetheart,” Tara smiled.

 

“You flirt with _everyone_!” Keith playfully smacked Shiro in the arm once they were out of earshot.

 

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

 

“I know what I just saw,” Keith accused.

 

They arrived at their assigned sim and Shiro held the door open for Keith. “Whatever, get in.” 

 

Keith’s eyes widened as he took in all the dash controls he’d had to memorize from diagrams, now fully functional and in front of him. “Oh, shit!” He couldn’t contain his excitement.

 

“OK, so what do you want to do? I can fly first so you can watch or you can just have at it. You can also pick a free-style setting where we just fly around or a basic beginner scenario with maneuvering obstacles that’ll give you a score. The score will go on your record is the only thing.”

 

“Oh, bring it. Let’s score this shit. It’s probably better if I start off on my own; I learn better that way,” Keith said.

 

“All right… let me just scan your ID so it logs your score and I’ll cosign it as the ‘instructor.’” Shiro leaned over Keith with his arm behind the seat to scan their IDs and adjust a few controls.  Keith savored their proximity and every slight contact in the tight cockpit as Shiro flipped a few switches. He smelled faintly of sandalwood and green tea, just like when he'd taught him how to use chopsticks. Keith's brain faltered. “Ready?” Shiro asked as he powered on the sim and buckled in.

 

The machine whirred to life, the dash lit up and the screen flickered to display a runway, snapping Keith out of his trance. “Fuck yeah, let’s do this.” Keith paused a brief moment to fully recover before accelerating for takeoff.

 

Weightlessness freed him as they left the ground and glided through a set of maneuverability tests. Keith forgot about lectures, reports, exams, the classmates he detested, the trivialities of campus life, and the fact that Shiro was next to him, watching his every move. He felt like he was born to do this. He felt free.

 

The scenario was over after only twenty minutes. “Takeoff and landing were a little shaky, but maneuverability was spot-on,” Shiro complimented as he patted Keith’s shoulder. The weight brought Keith back to the present and the sensation of the contact lingered even after Shiro removed his hand. Keith remained silent staring straight ahead. “You OK?” Shiro tilted his head, trying to get a better look at Keith’s response.

 

Keith finally spoke, trying to put the sensation he felt into words. “Yeah. That was... amazing. I just felt like my focus was intense but not stressful, like... relaxing almost?” 

 

Shiro smiled and nodded. “Yeah, people describe similar focus when they rock climb or do yoga. It’s like ‘meditation in situ.’ The intensity of the task at hand demands your full attention and you don’t have the option to focus on anything else so your constantly wandering mind actually stops wandering. That’s what drew me to flying as well. It's a functional meditation.”

 

Keith’s head bobbed in contemplation. “Sometimes I worried that the reason I wanted to fly was because I was always trying to escape something but I could never pinpoint exactly what it was, other than avoiding control from authority figures.”

 

“Nah, it’s just bringing you back to the present, back to yourself, drowning out the distraction and noise. You’re seeking out a different kind of control.” Shiro gazed out the front of the sim. “It's a mental control, pure focus. The _true_ test, the _real_ benefit, is when you can apply that focus to every aspect of your life.”

 

Keith just nodded dumbly, taking it all in. “You're so zen,” he chuckled.

 

“Hardly...” Shiro mused. “Alright, you want me to run the playback so I can talk you through some things?”

 

“Yeah, OK. How do I get my score?”

 

“It’ll message me later and then I have to attest to it. Then it posts a raw score and a weighted score based on your experience level. I think you did really well.”

 

Shiro gave his critique and they tried another simulation. “Be mindful of your wingspan. You cut some of your turns a little too close last time,” Shiro pointed out before they flew again.

 

After the second playback and critique, they sat talking, not having time to complete a third simulation. “That was fucking unbelievable… I can’t even… Thanks, Shiro,” Keith said turning to face him.

 

“No problem,” Shiro beamed. “You’re a natural, you’ll blow your class away next quarter.”

 

“Are you sure we didn’t mess up your hours you need to log?”

 

“I wouldn't have offered my time if I minded. Don’t worry about it, I’ve got a while to make it up,” Shiro waved a hand.

 

“...It's for Kerberos, right?” Keith looked over at Shiro.

 

“Yeah…” Shiro trailed off, clearly not wanting to discuss it. He studied Keith's eyes long enough for Keith to feel a little self-conscious. Then from out of left field he asked, “Are your eyes… purple?”

 

Keith flushed. “Oh, um, they’re like a dark blackish-blue, but yeah, I’ve been told they look purple in certain lighting.” Then he abruptly looked away. Trying to think of a way to redirect conversation away from himself. “So the high scores posted outside in the atrium, some of the ones in the top twenty are captains, too, but they graduated way before you, right? Do they absolutely hate you, like do you have to work with them?”

 

“Well, they did at first. But it was more because I was promoted at such a young age. I was twenty-two; they were all in their late twenties, early thirties when they were promoted. Plus I was promoted over a lot of other people that were also qualified, so I definitely rocked the boat.”

 

Keith had to dig for more information. “So... when did you get promoted?”

 

“About a year ago.”

 

Keith’s brain quickly filed the information away. _Shiro is twenty-three._

 

“I think your mom was right, you _are_ an old soul. You act _way_ older than your age.”

 

“I’ll have to put you in a choke hold if you tell me I _look_ older,” Shiro joked.

 

Keith laughed and boldly reached for Shiro’s hair. “I don’t know, I think I see a few grays in there already.”

 

“My mom keeps telling me it’s the stress I put on myself. And, my dad was completely gray by the time he was forty-five.”

 

“Forty-five!? You are _so_ fucking screwed!” Keith laughed, running his fingers in Shiro's bangs.

 

“OK, OK.” Shiro batted Keith's hand away. “I should probably get home, can I give you a ride back this time? My bike’s in the faculty lot. I'm pretty sure I have an extra helmet in the seat compartment.”

 

Keith hesitated but Celine’s jesting came to the forefront of his mind. “Um, yeah. OK.”

 

Keith followed Shiro out of the building. It was a clear night. Shiro stopped and looked up, taking a deep breath. “Nights like this are stunning once you get out in the desert, away from the light pollution.”

 

“Well, not all of us have the luxury of bombing out into the middle of the desert on a fancy hover bike. I’m unfortunately tethered to this god-forsaken campus.”

 

“I’ll take you out sometime,” Shiro said, still looking up at the stars.

 

“OK,” Keith whispered. His heart skipped a beat.

 

“I could’ve never afforded this bike on my own,” Shiro reminisced as he rifled through the bike’s seat storage. “My grandfather specifically stated in his will that half the money he left me was to pay for my tuition at the Garrison, and the other half was to go to something ‘foolish.’ His words exactly, well, you know, after translation. Heads up!” Shiro raised his voice, tossing Keith a helmet. “You didn’t wear a coat?”

 

“No, I’ll be fine.” Keith pretended not to shiver. Why did he always forget to bring his hoodie? _Damn this desert._

 

“You’ll freeze on the bike. Here,” Shiro said, taking off his jacket and offering it to Keith.

 

“No, I'm good,” Keith protested.

 

“I'm not taking ‘no’ for an answer,” Shiro mandated, handing over the jacket.

 

“Thanks,” Keith mumbled, the jacket’s warmth wrapping around him. It smelled like Shiro and make Keith feel weak.

 

Shiro disengaged the bike’s lock with a retina scan and the engine started up. Keith pulled on the helmet, heart pounding as he climbed on the bike behind Shiro. Suddenly uncomfortable with their almost obscene proximity, Keith hesitantly held on to the sides of Shiro’s uniform. “You’re going to fall off the back if you don’t hold on tighter,” Shiro shouted over the engine.

 

Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro’s solid waist, feeling his abdominal muscles engage as he balanced the bike into the turn out of the lot; his vertebrae flush with Keith’s sternum, his ass flush with... OK, Keith needed to not embarrass himself and keep his dick in check for the next five minutes. He focused on the night air catching his breath as it rushed at him, grasping at his last moments of freedom in flight.

 

Shiro dropped Keith off in front of the dormitory main entrance, hanging the spare helmet on the handlebar. “Don’t forget to text me when you get a minute, I don’t answer calls or texts if it’s a number I don’t know.”

 

“Will do. Thanks again,” Keith said, handing the jacket back and then turning towards the building. Shiro took off once Keith was safely inside.

 

When Keith got to his room, he texted Celine and then Shiro. And then he kicked himself for not solidifying a time or place for the next time they’d meet up. It would drive him crazy being in limbo for an undetermined amount of time doing the whole will-he-call-me-or-should-i-call-him thing.

 

He sat on his bed, reflecting on the good news: _Shiro’s not as old as I thought he was._

 

But another aspect of their evening tugged Keith's mind in the opposite direction: _If Shiro flirts with everyone, then what makes me think I'm different than anyone else?_

 


	7. I think I became mildly infatuated

Keith woke up Saturday morning and looked at his phone. It was 10:45 A.M. There was a message from Shiro at 6:03 A.M. _Of course he wakes up that early_ _._

Shiro: sim score: raw-650, weighted-960. Those are great first scores! Have a good weekend.

 

 _OK... that’s it?_ That didn't sound that impressive. Keith didn't have a scoring chart to refer to, but Shiro’s top score was like, 2000-something… He’d try and find a scoring chart on the student cloud later on. He needed to do some serious studying this weekend with finals week looming. Celine was also back in Canada visiting family. This was shaping up to be an unexciting weekend…

 

\-----

 

Keith awoke early on Monday for class. He hadn't heard any more from Shiro that weekend, not that he expected to. Best not to get his hopes up.

 

First on his Monday schedule was Combatives. It was his earliest class and was held in the recreation building across campus. Ironically, the class requiring the most physical activity took place when Keith was least awake. Plus the methods they taught felt stiff and predictable; Keith was used to fighting a little more “scrappily” than the Garrison liked.

 

Keith remained in bed, stalling, contemplating skipping class and mindlessly staring at his phone when two thoughts popped into his head. First, it was stir fry Monday... would Shiro invite him over again like last week? Second, if Shiro was up at 6:00 A.M. on a Saturday he was most definitely up at 6:00 A.M. on a Monday, perhaps at the gym? If Keith arrived at class early enough, he could stroll by the smaller workout rooms, just in case. You never know...

 

\-----

 

While Keith generally considered himself fairly unlucky, he happened to be lucky this morning. Very lucky.

 

All of the side rooms in the recreation building had large but moderately tinted windows, Keith assumed it was for the appearance of privacy although one could still see everything going on. Keith was crazy early for class so time permitted for a little wandering. Very few people were in the rooms reserved for officers. _Guy on treadmill, girl lifting weights, guy bench pressing, super hot guy- hold up._ Shiro was there, whaling on a speedball with a jump rope at his feet, and his sweat-soaked tank clinging to every contour of his back, sweat dripping down the nape of his neck. And… _holy_ biceps.

 

Since coming into somewhat regular contact with Shiro, Keith tried very hard not to think of the man when he masturbated. And had thus far been successful. But this… This image would be difficult to push from his head. Keith exhaled shakily not realizing he'd been holding his breath.

 

Shiro stooped for his water bottle, running his fingers through his slick hair, bobbing his head to whatever music he was listening to. Keith hungrily watched his adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallowed. Shiro then ran a towel over his face, neck, and hands before grabbing the jump rope.

 

Keith usually had voluntary control over the direction of his gaze but he could not look away, nor could he close his mouth. Finally, Keith was able to tear his eyes away as Shiro dropped into push-ups. He needed to get to class; he needed to smoke before class. He needed to NOT go to a hand-to-hand combat class with an erection.

 

\-----

 

Keith sat anxiously at dinner that night, eating his stir fry by himself, as usual, looking over his Aviation Law notes for a distraction. He didn't know if he'd be able to handle himself if he saw Shiro after what he'd observed this morning. Keith turned to glance at the tray line exit every few minutes but the entire dinner period passed without a Shiro sighting. _There's three seatings for dinner, so maybe Shiro ate earlier,_ Keith reasoned. But what if Shiro had walked by and hadn't stopped to talk to him? Keith shook his head; didn’t he tell himself he wouldn’t become obsessed?

 

\-----

 

Tuesday also passed with no significant events but Keith was optimistic for Wednesday when he had Combatives again. Only to be let down. Shiro wasn't in the gym and Keith was thirty fucking minutes early for class. _Dammit._

 

On Thursday, Keith sat eating dinner, feeling… forgotten? Neglected? He couldn't place it but this was getting ridiculous; his mood and schedule couldn't revolve around Shiro’s presence or lack thereof. He had to stop obsessing. Just because the guy had his number didn't mean he'd text him daily. Or at least every other day. Or… _stop_.

 

Keith still kept an eye on the tray line exit, half studying his notes. He normally sat with his back to the exit but turning constantly was hurting his neck and looked too obvious. He fidgeted, rereading the same sentence over and over, not absorbing any new information. Keith looked up again and finally spotted the object of his frustration and desire.

 

Shiro looked around the cafeteria like he was searching for someone, trailing behind three other officers. Shiro’s room-scanning stopped when he saw Keith, face brightening. He waved to Keith and called to the other officers as he strolled over.

 

 _Was he looking for me?_ Keith couldn't tell if his heart or stomach had done a somersault.

 

“Hey, how’s it going?” Shiro casually asked. “Gearing up for finals?” The three officers had walked up as well and stood near the table waiting for Shiro.

 

“Yeah, super exciting. How are things going with you?” Keith returned, trying to sound nonchalant.

 

“Insane, this is the first time I’ve left my apartment in three days. I’m submitting this mission proposal on Sunday.” Shiro sounded on edge and exhausted.

 

“Yeah, which is five days early,” said the blond officer standing just behind Shiro. “This guy is crazy,” he added, gesturing towards his friend.

 

Keith smirked. “I concur.”

 

Shiro rolled his eyes and then introduced his friends. “This is Lieutenant Erikson, and Sergeants Medina and Moore. Guys, this is Cadet Kogane.”

 

Something clicked on Sergeant Moore’s face, “Wait, Kogane? Shiro, you recently attested his first sim score right?”

 

“Uh, yeah, last Friday…” Shiro said with an air of confusion.

 

Moore sat down, excitedly pulling out his laptop and adjusting his glasses. “Did you understand your score?” he asked Keith.

 

“Not... really. It didn't sound impressive but I didn’t refer to a scoring rubric or anything. Why?” Keith was mildly intrigued by this guy’s enthusiasm.

 

“Oh, yeah, they’re a little confusing. So, they weight scores for beginners depending on, you know, scenarios you select, which craft you're flying, stuff like that. Once you’re licensed and more experienced, they use an average score to rank pilots. But the average is based on the most recent eighteen months. They don't want a high-ranking pilot with a low average because he was awful as a beginner, so-”

 

“We forgot to warn you, he’s a geek,” Medina interrupted. “He’ll talk your ear off for hours about nerdy-ass shit. Don't even bring up _Star Wars_ , you'll never get back to your dorm."

 

“Fucking Medina, give me a second.” Moore ignored his friend and resumed talking to Keith. “Anyway, the old scores for pilots drop into an archive after eighteen months. I comb through new pilot stats _and_ the archives from time to time for a side project I work on for the aviation department. They’ve got this new initiative to target emerging talent to make sure they're engaged and not bored with the curriculum and placing them in advanced classes if needed. I just flagged you on Tuesday.”

 

Sergeant Moore highlighted a row in his spreadsheet and held up the laptop for Shiro to see. “His first weighted score is only three points less than your first score. And it falls into the top five all-time novice scores.”

 

Shiro leaned over, eyes going over the spreadsheet. His hair was getting a little scruffy and he brushed his bangs out of his right eye. “No shit…”

 

Keith reread the spreadsheet stats in disbelief when Moore flipped the computer to face him. “Are you serious?”

 

Moore looked up at Shiro as he closed the laptop. “So you've been writing your Kerberos proposal to hand in early, working out like a maniac as usual, _and_ you've been grooming your protégé. Do you sleep at all?”

 

“See, my theory holds. He’s a robot,” Medina joked.

 

Erikson chimed in, “Jeez, another Asian keeping me on my toes. You guys need to leave something for the rest of us to be good at.”

 

Shiro smiled and teased, “Nope, I'm planning an Asian invasion.” He then winked at Keith. Keith's heart and/or stomach flip-flopped again.

 

“We are doomed to a life of mediocrity,” Sergeant Medina mocked. 

 

Keith felt excitement coursing through his veins. The score was amazing and all but really, he liked the way ‘protégé’ sounded.

 

“Welp, I need to eat,” Moore stood up, collecting his things. “Cool to meet you, Kogane,” he said, holding his hand out to shake Keith’s.

 

“Yeah, likewise. Thanks,” Keith returned.

 

Shiro lingered as the others took their leave. “You want to come with us? We can probably sneak you into the officers’ lounge upstairs.”

 

Keith didn't want to be pitied for eating alone. “I'm good, I need to head back soon anyway.” _Lies_.

 

“OK,” Shiro wasn't sold but turned to head towards the stairs. He then did a one-eighty to face Keith again as he backpedaled. “Almost forgot. Rice? Monday? You can pick the music this time?”

 

 _I thought you'd never ask_. “Yeah, OK, sounds good.” Keith smiled.

 

“Cool. Text me Monday if you don't hear from me,” Shiro called as he walked away.

 

 _Yes, sir_.

 


	8. Who is he?

Text from Shiro: Hey, I had to eat during the second seating. You're still welcome to come by if you're not busy.

 

Keith’s chest felt light as he read the text eating his stir fry, pushing the grains of rice off to the side. He felt so giddy that he couldn’t finish his food. He dumped his tray and ran to his dorm to change, pulling his hair into a ponytail and remembering to grab his jacket for the temperature drop once the sun set.

 

\-----

 

Keith found it endearing that Shiro personally answered the door for the second time in a row instead of having his home OS unlock the door. “Hey, glad you could make it,” Shiro greeted.

 

The apartment smelled like freshly cooked rice and-  _Wait, oh god, is that Bruce Springsteen playing?_ “Seriously, Shiro?” Keith said as he kicked his shoes off. “System, play Joy Division.”

 

“Wow, not wasting any time!” Shiro laughed as he walked back to the kitchen.

 

“I kept you in mind while choosing my selection. It’s dark but I picked something old school for you.”

 

“I appreciate your consideration.” Shiro smiled. He looked much more at ease than last week. He’d also finally gotten his hair cut. But Shiro’s outfit…

 

“What are you wearing?” Keith teased.

 

“I’m doing laundry tomorrow, leave me alone.” Shiro was wearing camouflage cargo pants and a vintage Queen tee shirt with a stretched-out neck and the sleeves cut off.  “I literally locked myself in here for a week-and-a-half. And don’t you dare knock Freddie Mercury, you will be out on the sidewalk on your ass so fast.”

 

Shiro’s outfit was so ridiculous that it was cute, plus Keith didn’t mind that it bared Shiro’s arms. The image of Shiro from the gym appeared in Keith’s head. _Ugh, not now._

 

“You want anything else besides rice? And no smartass remarks about protein bars. You’ve already insulted my taste in clothes and music in the ninety seconds you’ve been here.”

 

Keith laughed. “I could eat more. I don’t know. What else do you have?” he said, opening the fridge.

 

“Uh, make yourself at home,” Shiro joked. “I remembered to stop at the market in town for kimchi if you want to try it.”

 

“Oooh! What’s this?” Keith dug a small bottle of sake from the back of the fridge. “You saving this for something special?”

 

Shiro looked over with uncertainty. “I forgot I had that. I really shouldn’t have an underage cadet in my apartment drinking…”

 

“Come on, Shiro. You submitted your Kerberos thing, right? You should be celebrating.” Keith thought Shiro would let loose a little if he had one drink in his system…

 

Shiro sighed as he gave in. “All right, but I won’t be able to give you a ride back if I have any. And you need to keep yourself in check, I don’t want you stumbling to your dorm in the dark. Deal? _And_ you need to try the kimchi in the fridge.”

 

“Deal!” Keith emerged from the fridge with the questionable container in his hand. “This stuff?”

 

“That’s it.” Shiro was fighting to keep a mischievous smirk from his face.

 

“I can’t even tell what this shit is.” Keith examined the contents and scrunched his nose.

 

“Here,” Shiro said, handing over a set of chopsticks as he searched for glasses.

 

Keith took his seat on the island barstool like last time, so he could face Shiro. Keith opened his kimchi container and decided mild flirting was appropriate tonight. “I think I need another chopstick lesson,” he said, slyly looking up at Shiro.

 

Shiro gave him a sidelong glance and cocked one eyebrow. “I think you need practice. System, play The Clash. Sorry, I need something a little more upbeat.”

 

“I’m down with some punk,” Keith said in agreement, trying to remember how to hold his chopsticks.

 

“Actually, you need to hold them further towards the end so you have more leverage.” Shiro leaned over the island counter and used one hand to adjust Keith's. His hands were broad, knuckles callused, likely from boxing, but the pads of his fingers were soft. “Got it?”    

 

“Yeah... got it.” Shiro turned to pour the sake but was startled by Keith’s shout of disgust. “Ugh!!! What the… Shiro! What the fuck!?”

 

Shiro turned around to see Keith holding his hand over his mouth trying to hold the kimchi in, eyes watering, eyebrows knit in distress. Shiro doubled over in laughter.

 

Keith fought to swallow the fermented cabbage without gagging. “Oh my god!! Was that a joke or did you think I would actually like this stuff? Oh my… fuck. Agh, and it’s spicy?! Not cool.”

 

Shiro had to focus to slow his laughter. He straightened up, wiping tears away, struggling to get words out between giggles. “It’s…an acquired…taste. The look on your face was priceless.” Shiro sighed as his laughing fully subsided. “It wasn’t meant to be a joke,” he said, holding up his hands.

 

“I can’t even… is this... cabbage!?”

 

“Fermented cabbage. It’s actually pretty popular in restaurants lately. And it’s a good source of probiotics...”

 

“Whatever, I could've used a warning. Just for that, I’m watching you eat the rest of the container.”

 

Shiro smiled. “And this is where I distract you with alcohol.” He placed a full glass in front of Keith.

 

Keith sighed and gave in. “Distraction successful. So, congratulations?” Keith held the glass up.

 

“Well... not yet. The proposal and application are in but they need to select the commander and then he’ll go through the submissions to pick pilots for the navigation challenge. So, still a ways to go, but step one is done.” Shiro held up his glass.

 

“Well, good luck. Cheers.”

 

“Kanpai.”

 

Their banter stalled and they sat in a comfortable silence. Keith studied Shiro as he fidgeted with his glass. “System, play My Bloody Valentine,” Keith called out.

 

“Good call. I thought you were going to come over and force me to listen to My Chemical Romance.”

 

“Oh, that’s my shit, don’t make me do it.” Keith grinned.

 

“Please spare me.”

 

“Another time then.” Shiro nodded as he turned to portion out the rice so Keith took it as a good sign. There would be another time… Lately, there was always a next time. Keith glanced around the apartment while he waited. It was simple and modern, walls painted a medium gray with black furniture. The samurai sword hung above the couch and there was a low coffee table with deep space pulsar network maps scattered across. Keith got up to study the sword and then the maps. There was still so much Keith had to learn.

 

Shiro passed Keith a bowl and a new set of chopsticks as Keith sat back down. “So, why do they keep proposing Kerberos missions but they never follow through? This is the third time it’s been proposed.”

 

“The funding always falls through. It’s a long trip, requires a lot of fuel. They’re always proposing these huge teams. There’s lots of factors to take into consideration. I was picked for the first mission, I honestly think it came down to money because I have a lower salary than the more experienced people that were qualified; I ‘fit’ into the budget better. Unfortunately, space exploration revolves around grants and budgets. This time around though, I figured out a really fuel efficient route for my proposal but it’ll probably take longer; we’d be using gravity assist quite a bit more than normal and Neptune’s moons should be in good positions to really maximize these maneuvers if we timed it right. It’s a little unconventional to rely on it so heavily, but I thought a different approach was needed. If it requires less fuel then we can justify a smaller ship, smaller crew, less cargo… But… we’ll see.” Shiro sighed.  “I want this mission so badly.”

 

Keith nodded. “You’d be in history books; the farthest humans have ever traveled from Earth.” He was used to just seeing Shiro as the hot guy he was obsessed with lately but really, he was fucking talented, smart as hell, and incredibly driven. They ate their rice in silence and Keith’s mind wandered. He never thought he’d have to take budgets, politics, and the like into consideration as a pilot. He wasn't sure he could ever handle those kinds of things. He took a drink of the rice wine, letting the warmth of the alcohol relax his body. Keith turned his attention to the sword hanging above the couch again. “So, can I be your kenjutsu protégé too?”

 

“Ha, I'd need to be good at it in order to have a protégé. And don't let one sim score go to your head, kid.”

 

 _Kid..._ “Don't worry. System, play The XX.” Keith walked over to the sword and ran his finger through the dust collecting on the sheath. “You really should dust this thing off. I mean that literally and figuratively.”

 

Shiro sighed. “Haven’t thought about it, honestly. I really should but I’d need to start with the practice swords. I’m probably rusty as hell,” Shiro admitted. Then he looked at his calendar on his phone. “You’re off on Thursday, right? You guys still get two ‘reading days’ the weekend before finals?”

 

“Yeah, but I was planning on, you know, actually studying.” Keith wished he could forget about finals and just go with whatever Shiro was toying with in his head. “Why?”

 

Shiro disappeared into his bedroom, emerging a minute later with a long box. He opened the box on the kitchen island and unwrapped two bamboo practice swords, tossing one to Keith. “You’ve been studying a lot. Your brain could use a break,” Shiro rebutted.

 

Keith smiled, examining the sword. “Shouldn’t you be encouraging me to study?”

 

“I’m serious, your brain needs a break. You were studying last time I saw you, and you said you had to study after we did the sim. It’s going to be cloudy on Thursday. It’s a good day to go into the desert. We’ll take the bike, bring the swords…”

 

“You’ll teach me?!”

 

“Well, I’ll see what I can remember and I’ll teach you that. There’s a dojo that my grandfather was affiliated with. They’ve got some good videos online that you could check out to get the feel for it.” Shiro grabbed his tablet and located a website for Keith.

 

Keith topped off his glass and watched some demonstration videos as Shiro cleaned up. “You want anything else? Tea? I think I have ice cream,” Shiro said, digging around his freezer.

 

“Is it normal ice cream? If it's kimchi flavored I'm not responsible for my actions.”

 

Shiro laughed. “Um… I think it's black sesame flavored.”

 

“I don't even know what that means. Sounds questionable.” Keith returned his attention to the video he was watching. “This is so badass. I can't wait to learn.”

 

Just then, system announced: photo cloud notification, album folder upload from Aunt Miyako.

 

Keith saw the notification pop up on the tablet the same time it was announced. “Family photos?” Keith’s smile was full of mischief. Shiro turned around but Keith was on it, he tapped the link and read the details of the note out loud. “‘Takashi, finally got pictures from Jenna’s _okuizome_ off my old camera. Can't believe it's been five years. Hope all is well.’  Wait... _five_ years ago?! Are there pictures of eighteen-year old Shiro in here?”

 

Shiro and Keith engaged in a stare down. “Keith, give me the tablet.”

 

Keith felt bold after two glasses of sake and opened the folder as he stood and backed away to maintain a safe distance from Shiro. “In a minute… You had a fauxhawk?! Oh my god!”

 

“Keith…”

 

“Is this your mom?”

 

“No, my aunt.”

 

“Who’re they?”

 

“Cousins. That’s enough.” Shiro walked around the island as Keith backpedaled away.

 

“I don’t usually like kids but they’re all really cute. Shit, you look so different without all that muscle.”

 

“Keith, seriously-”

 

Keith swiped to the last picture and froze. “ _Whoa_. This guy is crazy hot. Who is he?” It was a picture of a really cute tan boy with his arm around a young Shiro.

 

Shiro snatched the tablet out of Keith’s hands. “A friend. You done?” That authoritative tone Keith recalled from their first encounters had returned.

 

“Yeah. Sorry. I just thought maybe you had an awkward stage documented in photos. Apparently not...” Keith trailed off. He realized what he had uncovered.

 

Shiro tossed the tablet on the island and paced. He stopped, braced himself with both hands on the countertop, and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I just-.” He paused, searching for the best words. “I choose to keep personal details separate from work. There are just certain things that most people at the Garrison don't need to know.”

 

Keith held up his hands, “I’m sorry. Look… I don’t care who that guy is. He could be your adopted brother, he could be your boyfriend, he could be your accomplice in a murder. I don’t care. I’m not going to say anything. I don’t talk to anyone anyway.” Keith was so pissed at himself for overstepping his boundary. They barely knew each other.

 

After a prolonged silence, Shiro spoke up in a quiet voice. “He’s an ex... Sorry. I... overreacted.”

 

“Ex...murder accomplice?” Keith had to hear him say it.

 

“Ex-boyfriend.”

 

Keith’s heart rate was still up, wary of the tension between them. “I always assumed you liked girls because they’re constantly throwing themselves at you.”

 

Shiro just closed his eyes and shook his head. _Shit, I said something wrong, again. I need to shut the fuck up_ , Keith thought.

 

Shiro opened his eyes and looked around the room. “I don’t know, sometimes I do.”

 

“Wait, what?” Keith was confused.

 

“I stopped trying to figure it out a few years ago. Everyone has certain factors in the equation that determines ‘their type.’  Like, Erikson only goes for tall, athletic girls. Medina’s always into older women, the more curves the better. I just… gender isn’t part of the equation for me. I… I don't know, I can’t help it.”

 

“I won’t tell anyone if that's how you want it, but you shouldn’t have to keep this from your friends and people you trust. I mean, I know we don’t know each other that well, but…”

 

“I think they’d be cool with it; actually, I think Moore knows. It’s just that I know so many people at the Garrison... People gossip… I know what some of the high-ups are like. I don’t want to be treated or viewed any differently.” Shiro let out a big sigh and topped off his drink.

 

Keith hesitated but sat back down on the barstool. “Look, people don’t like me because I don’t like them. They treat me differently because of the way I _interact_ with them, not because I’m gay. _Everyone_ loves you...”

 

Shiro shook his head in disagreement and possibly modesty.

 

“I’m serious.” Keith held Shiro's gaze as they sat in more silence. “Um... I can go if you want me to.”

 

“No. You don't have to go. Sorry…” Shiro turned to his freezer again. “I don't remember, you said ‘no’ to ice cream?”

 

“You only have crazy flavors,” Keith bantered, happy that Shiro had initiated lightening the intensity of their conversation.

 

“I was joking. I have vanilla, too,” Shiro admitted with a tired smirk.

 

“You were holding out on me, what the hell?” Keith smiled. “I’m good though, thanks. I need to get back anyway.” Keith felt it was best to leave on a semi-positive note before he fucked anything else up.

 

“So... we doing Thursday or are you studying?”

 

Keith nodded. “I wanna go.”

 

“All right. I have two meetings in the morning but I should be ready to go by 1400.”

 

“Cool. OK... sorry again.”

 

“Don’t worry about it. See you in a few days. And I’ll text you the link to that website.”

 

“Yeah, OK. Thanks.” Keith began putting on his shoes.

 

“I’ll walk you to your dorm,” Shiro offered.

 

“Not in that outfit,” Keith laughed.

 

“So judgmental! I can put on a coat, you know.”

 

Keith shook his head, “I think the pants are the bigger issue here.”

 

“Well, I can’t go outside without pants, so I guess I’m stuck here. You’re sure you’re OK to walk home?”

 

Keith shook his head and smirked. “I’ll be fine, I can handle myself. I’m a big boy.”

 

Shiro narrowed his eyes as he studied Keith’s and then shrugged. “All right. See you later then.”

 

Keith walked out the door, calling out, “System, resume lame music,” just as the door closed. He heard Shiro laugh behind the door. He _really_ loved the sound of Shiro’s laugh.

 

Keith strolled back, unsure of how to interpret the evening’s revelation. He smoked a cigarette and settled for ‘hesitantly hopeful’.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so you're telling me there's a chance...


	9. We used to escape into the desert: Part 1

Keith closed his laptop. His eyes were cross-eyed from going over his aerospace physics notes too many times. He finished the food he’d picked up from the cafeteria earlier and got dressed. At 14:02, he heard the revving of a familiar engine outside his building and ran down to meet Shiro.

 

Keith’s heart skipped a beat at the sight: Shiro in his olive drab bomber jacket over a faded grey chambray shirt and black moto jeans with the practice swords strapped to his back and red helmet in his lap. “Hey!” Shiro greeted over the engine, handing Keith the spare helmet. “All set? It’ll be about a forty-five-minute ride.”

 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here!”

 

“You didn’t bring a jacket, did you?” Shiro looked at Keith in his typical black tee.

 

“It’s warm.”

 

“The wind kicks up the sand in the desert, it’s gonna destroy your arms on the bike.” Shiro dismounted and grabbed a black hoodie out of the seat compartment. “Here. I knew I was going to need this.”

 

“You’re starting to pack spare clothes for me? We’ve been hanging out too much,” Keith teased, not meaning it. _Definitely_ not meaning it. “I see you got around to doing laundry.”

 

“Yeah. You're OK being seen with me in this outfit? Meets your approval?” Shiro bantered.

 

_More than OK._

 

Keith zipped up the hoodie after he got on the bike. He wrapped his arms around Shiro and got comfortable. Shiro checked the bike’s compass and headed north into the desert. Twenty minutes into the drive, the landscape became repetitive and Keith let his helmeted head rest on Shiro’s back.

 

\-----

 

They found a plateau to stop on. The wind kicked up sand in gusts but Keith savored the feeling of peace and isolation as he looked around. Pulling his hair back to keep it from blowing in his face, he turned around and watched Shiro unsheath both swords and strip off his jacket. “I feel like we’re a Quentin Tarantino film with the Japanese swords and the desert backdrop.”

 

“Ha. Top three best Tarantino movies?” Shiro quizzed.

 

“ _Kill Bill 1, Django, Kill Bill 2_. In order,” Keith answered without hesitation.

 

“What?! Blasphemy! _Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs_ , and then toss up between _Inglorious Basterds_ and _Kill Bill 2_.”

 

“ _Kill Bill 1_ is way better than 2.”

 

“No way, there’s no plot.”

 

“But the fight scene! We’re gonna have to agree to disagree on this one.”

 

“We do that a lot, don’t we?” Shiro smiled, handing Keith a sword, hilt first. “All right, so there’s some basic stances you need to learn, then we’ll go through attacking, diversions, and blocking. And then we’ll see if I can remember a kata or two to teach you. You need to be back by any certain time?”

 

“Nope, I’m all yours.” Keith grinned as the wind whipped around them.

 

“OK so first stance, _Chudan no Kamae_. Hold the sword, right hand on top of left. Right foot forward, widen your stance a bit, sword angled at your opponent’s throat.” Shiro walked around Keith, correcting his hold on the sword, nudging his left foot back and stepping back in front pulling the sword up to his own throat. “Relax your shoulders. Don’t lock your knees. Head up. Good. Now, my grandfather would have stopped here and told you to hold that for the next hour…”

 

“I will kill you,” Keith deadpanned.

 

“...but I’m a nice guy.”

 

“Debatable.”

 

“OK, well, in your free time, practice holding these stances longer and longer. Builds a solid foundation.” Suddenly Shiro swatted the sword. “Stronger hold. And steeper angle.”

 

“I’m trying.”

 

“It shouldn’t give that much when I hit it.” He swatted it again.

 

Keith groaned. His forearms burned as he corrected the sword each time. He shot Shiro a look of death.

 

“OK, now hold the sword parallel to the ground, then angle it down. Slide your right foot back and bring the sword to your right hip, angled back behind your hip. Next, _Hassogammae_ , slide your left foot back to narrow your stance a bit but keep it strong, bend your knees. Draw the sword up and behind your right ear, kind of like you’re at bat. Hang on.” Shiro walked up to Keith and held both hands on Keith’s waist. Keith tried to slow his heart rate. Shiro was so close… “OK, deep inhale. Feel that length? Now exhale but maintain that space. You’ll need it for better mobility. Don’t let your core cave in. Better.”

 

Keith nodded. He could do this and not get excited every single time Shiro touched him. Or praised him.

 

“Now straighten your legs but don’t lock your knees, hold the sword overhead to strike.” The wind gusted, pulling a few strands of hair into Keith’s eyes. Shiro placed his hands on Keith’s shoulders and pushed them down and back. Their eyes met as Shiro circled around and Keith tried blowing the hair out of his face. “Keep your hips squared, maintain eye contact with your opponent.”

 

“Trying…”

 

Shiro swatted the sword again as he circled behind Keith. “Stronger hold, Keith.”

 

“I’m trying.” Keith gritted his teeth as the wind blasted him again. His forearms screamed. Keith unsuccessfully blew his hair out of his face again.

 

Shiro circled around front. He reached up and softly brushed the few stray strands of hair flowing into Keith’s vision and tucked them behind his ear. “OK. Start from _Chudan_.”

 

 _Fuck. Deep breath..._ Keith might not last the day in Shiro’s presence like this.

 

Keith resumed the first position, sword angled up, forearms already shaking. “Remember, always aim for the throat in _Chudan_.” Shiro grabbed the sword and angled it into his throat again. Keith watched it press into the soft space below Shiro’s jaw and found it disturbingly erotic. He clenched his eyes shut for a millisecond to remind his semi-hard erection to chill the fuck out.

 

\-----

 

After two hours and only a few short water breaks, they finished with Shiro demonstrating a basic kata for Keith to practice at home. Keith could feel the tightness in his muscles giving way to pain. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow,” Keith said as he rolled his neck.

 

“You did well. Like I said, just practice the basics so they become second nature, then you just keep building on them. Also practice a little more patience. You’re not going to be an expert at everything right away.”

 

Keith nodded, fighting his slight feeling of discouragement.

 

“You going to be hungry? We can grab some food in town on our way back. My treat.”

 

“Um, sure, OK. What are you thinking?”

 

“I don’t know. What do you want? Burgers? Mexican? Thai?” Shiro rattled off what he could think of on the main street in town. “Anything but that terrible diner.”

 

“I could go for a burger.”

 

“Let’s do it. You want to drive for a bit?”

 

Keith paused. “Are you serious?”

 

“Yeah, we’ll switch back when we get closer to town. There’s actually a good valley we passed on the way. It’s fun to do doughnuts in there.” Shiro had a playful look his eyes.

 

“Hell yeah.” Keith got on the bike and felt a wall of Shiro behind him as he mounted. _Fuck._ Keith wanted Shiro to touch him, and now he fucking got it. Shiro wrapped one enormous arm around Keith’s right side, thighs hugging Keith’s. He motioned to the direction they were headed with his free hand.

 

“You’re going to need to get some good momentum to get us off the plateau. And don't accelerate too fast, I'll rip us both off if I fall off the back.”

 

“Yep, I got it.” They took off and flew over the edge of the plateau.

 

The bike felt different with Shiro's weight on the back; the maneuvering was slower but steadier. “Don’t be afraid to lean into your turns a little more,” Shiro called over the engine and wind. Keith leaned on the next turn and felt the bike move in sync, like they were one. The wind screamed and Keith's blood sang.

 

Halfway back towards town, Shiro motioned to pull over. He dismounted and pulled off his helmet, leaving Keith alone on the bike. “All right kid, have at it.”

 

“I’m not a kid.” Keith was starting to realize that he needed to convince Shiro of this. He was unintentionally reinforcing their “instructor and pupil” roles.

 

Shiro shrugged. “Kind of.”

 

Keith needed to show him... somehow.

 

“You gonna do this or are you going to keep giving me your death stare?” Shiro jested.

 

Keith looked forward, revved the engine twice, and accelerated as fast as he could through the center of the valley. Now _this_ was fucking flying. Flying for the Garrison was going to be controlled, calculated, expected. Here, he could be reckless. He pulled a hard left into a one-eighty, remembering to lean. He almost choked on the dust he kicked up but he accelerated again with everything he had, whooshing by Shiro. He bobbed and weaved around rocks and dried plants like an obstacle course. He learned into another hard one-eighty and almost felt the back get away from him but he corrected as he sped back towards Shiro again.

 

He idled when he reached Shiro and pulled off his helmet, coughing up dust. “I fucking love this thing!”

 

Shiro beamed. “It’s fun, isn’t it?”

 

They spent some time perfecting Keith’s doughnuts until they were both covered in dust and unable to laugh without coughing. “You ready to head back?” Shiro asked, getting sand out of his hair.

 

“No. But I’m starving,” Keith answered, beating dust out of his jeans.

 

Shiro drove back into town, parked along a side street, and tied the swords to the back of the bike. “Remind me to give you one when we get back so you can practice.”

 

Keith groaned at the thought. “My arms hurt just thinking about it. But, yeah, thanks.”

 

Shiro smiled and led Keith into the restaurant. It was an organic, free-range chicken and burger kind of place with types of meat Keith had never even heard of. “Ostrich?” Keith questioned as he scanned the menu while they waited for the hostess. “Do you ever eat normal food? Like, ever?”

 

“Define normal,” was Shiro’s answer. “And they have regular burgers here. Do you ever _not_ complain?” Keith knew Shiro was joking, but he guessed Shiro had a point. But complaining was sort of Keith's thing.

 

The hostess approached and led them to a table by the window at the front of the restaurant. It was still a little early for dinner so it wasn't busy. “What do you usually get?” Keith asked, a little overwhelmed by the menu.

 

“Bison burger, lettuce wrap.”

 

“See, I knew you were a carb-a-phobe. The whole Monday rice thing is a cover-up,” Keith joked.

 

Shiro laughed, “You’re on to me. What are you getting?”

 

“No idea.”

 

“Seriously, they have a standard beef burger if that’s what you want.” Then Shiro flipped Keith’s menu over and pointed to the kid’s menu, smiling. “They also have grilled cheese. I’ll cut the crust off for you.”

 

Keith swatted Shiro in the head with the menu. “Don’t patronize me.”

 

Shiro laughed as a cute red-headed waitress came over. “Hi boys, ready to order?” Keith rolled his eyes as Shiro flashed her his winning smile.

 

“Can I get the bison burger with the lettuce wrap, just water to drink. What are you getting, Keith?”

 

“Coke. I’ll try the bison burger too, carbs with mine, please.” He had to stand up to Shiro’s kid jokes and order something out of his comfort zone.

 

“So, how you feeling about finals?” Shiro asked, folding his placemat into different paper airplane shapes.

 

“Physics could be brutal and law is hard just because it’s so fucking boring. My other four classes should be easy enough, though.” Keith remembered he and Celine were studying for the aviation law final on Monday night. Which reminded him… “Hey, so you’re close with Lieutenant Erikson, right?”

 

“Yeah, he's a good friend, we graduated flight school together. Why?”

 

“Who’s his roommate? Celine’s interested.”

 

“Uh, well, he has _two_ roommates. The Woolf brothers.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know which one it is then.”

 

“I’m guessing the younger one, I think he’s nineteen or twenty. He’s graduating flight school next week. How old is Celine?”

 

“My age.” Then Keith thought better to clarify. “Well, we’re almost a year apart. I’m one of the oldest in our graduating class; I started grade school late. So, she recently turned seventeen but I’ll be eighteen next month.”

 

Shiro’s paper folding stopped. Keith could almost hear the wheels turning… Shiro cleared his throat and quickly recovered. “Yeah probably the younger brother. Neil. Should I put in a good word?”

 

“Um, I don’t know. I think she’d just want to ‘run into him’ or get introduced at a party or something...” Keith was a little distracted. Was Shiro taken off guard finding out that Keith was older than he thought?

 

Their waitress, Kelly(?) returned with their food. “Can I get you boys anything else right now?” She spoke directly to Shiro and ignored Keith.

 

Shiro looked over his plate. “Oh, I forgot to ask for extra guac. I’m sorry, I hope it’s not too much trouble,” he flirted.

 

“Oh, not a problem. I’ll be right back, hon,” she replied and strutted off.

 

Keith spoke up, “I don’t think you need to flirt for guacamole. It’s her job, she’ll do it regardless.”

 

“I’m not flirting!”

 

“Dude, whatever.” Keith bit into his burger, slightly annoyed. He corrected himself after a minute of dwelling on his annoyance. Shiro gave him kenjutsu lessons this morning, let him recklessly drive his bike, and was now buying him food. He needed to relax. And their time today was coming to an end soon. Keith didn’t want to go home; he didn’t want to _not_ be around Shiro.

 

They ate in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Keith was suddenly torn out from inside his head when someone knocked on the window in front of their table. Keith looked out and saw a massively muscular guy on the sidewalk trying to get Shiro’s attention.

 

“Oh my god, hey, man!” Shiro waved the guy in and gestured like they hadn’t seen each other in a while. The enormous guy walked in the restaurant and over to their table, grabbing Shiro into a huge bear hug, laughing. The man wasn’t taller than Shiro but Shiro’s muscle mass paled in comparison. The guy looked intimidating as hell and his nose looked like it had been broken one too many times.

 

“Rocket man!!! Where you been?” The guy squeezed Shiro.

 

“Jocko, ow! I think you cracked one of my ribs,” Shiro joked, massaging his side as Jocko set him down. “How are you?”

 

“Good, just coming back from the gym. I’m training for that competition in Texas. This your little brother?”

 

Shiro looked at Keith, “Uh...no. He’s a cadet from the Garrison. This is Keith.”

 

“Nice to meet you, little man!! I’m Jake but everyone calls me Jocko.” He energetically shook Keith’s hand. Keith thought he felt a few joints crack.

 

“Where you off to?” Shiro asked.

 

“Going to work, man. I started working the door at Radio Bar. You guys should come by after you’re done!! Joey’s back from his honeymoon. Cora’s leaving soon to study abroad. I think some of your buddies from the Garrison are going to be there!”

 

“Um…” Shiro hesitated, looking back at Keith again. “He’s not twenty-one, so…”

 

“Oh, well, anyone can come in during the day when we're serving food, it’s early enough. I don’t kick the underagers out until nine. I could accidentally forget to ID him.” Jocko looked eagerly between the two.

 

Keith hated social situations, but he also wasn’t ready for today to be over. He shrugged to say, _Why not?_

 

“All right…” Shiro said. “Yeah, OK, we’ll see you later after we finish.”

 

“Awesome, see you guys! Can’t wait to catch up, it’s been too long!” Jocko said as he slapped Shiro on the back before walking out.

 

“Sorry, he’s a bit of a whirlwind,” Shiro laughed. “I think he almost knocked the wind out of me.”

 

Keith laughed. “What’s crazy is you look tiny next to him.”

 

“He's a beast. You sure you’re cool with going over there? I can drop you off and come back if you want to study.”

 

“No, I’m good. I got some studying in this morning.”

 

“OK, we won’t stay too long.” Shiro pulled out his phone and furrowed his brow as he resumed eating. “Sorry, I have a couple work emails I need to answer. I’m actually playing hookie today.”

 

“Wait, _the_ Captain Shirogane is breaking rules?”

 

“Shhh,” Shiro waved at Keith as he tapped at his phone. “I’m working ‘from home.'”

 

Kelly cleared their plates and Shiro asked for the check. She returned with the bill and a huge sundae. “It’s on me,” she said with a wink.

 

Keith glanced at the check. “Oh, and you got a phone number,” he teased. “That’s why you flirt with everyone. Dessert.  Do you get free dessert everywhere you go?”

 

“No, what…? I’m just being nice. Some people just... misinterpret it or… I don’t know. Why are you complaining, eat your free ice cream.”

 

Keith polished off the dessert without another word; Shiro maybe had two bites as he continued to answer emails. And Keith smiled at Kelly on the way out; she was definitely _not_ getting a phone call later.

  

Keith lit a cigarette as they walked to the bike. “You seriously need to quit.” Shiro waved smoke out his face.

 

“I only smoke when I drink, or if I’m stressed. And after I eat… I’ve cut back a lot. I’m working on it.” Keith tried blowing his smoke away from Shiro before putting out his cigarette and pulling on his helmet. He got on behind Shiro for the third time today, feeling more and more comfortable with their proximity as they rode. He spread his hand a little more firmly into Shiro’s solid abdomen.

 

\-----

 

Shiro parked in front of the bar and waved to Jocko who was already in position outside. Jocko gave Keith an enthusiastic pat on the back, knocking him into Shiro; Shiro just turned and laughed as they walked in. _Holy shit that guy is strong._ Shiro put his arm around Keith’s shoulders as he led him towards the bar. Keith’s breathing resumed once Shiro pulled his arm back to wave at everyone. Literally everyone.

 

“Shiro!!” The bartender, Cora (Keith later learned), leaned over the bar to give him a hug. Keith looked around while he waited for the endless greetings to be over; the bar was actually pretty cool. There were some fratty types over by the beer pong tables up front but generally it was a laid-back dive with lots of vintage arcade games like Pac-Man and Duck Hunt.

 

Shiro introduced Keith to at least fifteen people and Keith had already forgotten 93.3% percent of their names. After Shiro made his rounds, the Garrison officers from the other day walked over; Keith recognized Lieutenant Erikson and Sergeant Moore. “Hey, boys,” Shiro greeted. “You guys remember Keith, right? Oh, Keith, this is the guy you need to talk to. This is Lieutenant Woolf. Hey, Woolfy, he’s got a friend that we need to set up with your little brother.”

 

Woolf shook Keith’s hand. “Oh, thank god. He brings the worst girls around. I’m surprised he’s graduating flight school on schedule; he’s an emotional wreck all the time.”

 

Keith smiled, “I can’t make any guarantees, but…”

 

Shiro casually put his arm around Keith’s shoulders again to lead him toward the back where two old video game flight sims sat in individual booths, each with two seats for versus and two-player modes. “We’re racing later so you better practice,” Shiro said as he took off toward the bathroom. The video games were at least a good distraction from having to interact with all these people. Although alcohol could help as well…

 

Moore seemed to read Keith’s mind and materialized out of nowhere with two PBRs in hand. “Good to see you again,” he said, handing Keith a beer.

 

“Yeah, good to see you, too. You know I’m like, way under twenty-one, right?”

 

“It’s all good, the bartenders mostly keep their eyes on the frat guys up front. They’re the ones who always get out of hand. I got wasted here plenty of times before I turned twenty-one. This has always been our spot.”

 

“Thanks, ‘preciate it.” Keith took a drink as the rest of the Garrison crew walked over.

 

“Who’s got sim first?” Erikson called.

 

“Oh, I’m _totally_ kicking your ass this time,” Woolf said, climbing in on one side.

 

“Don’t worry, Shiro will kick _all_ of our asses as usual,” Erikson replied and climbed in on the other side.

 

Moore turned his attention back to Keith. “Did you look at the high scores on these things? Shiro’s had top score on both since we all started flight school.”

 

“Naturally,” Keith answered.

 

“If you want to make yourself feel better, though, you can always challenge him to Asteroids. He never makes it longer than thirty seconds.” Moore grinned.

 

“That's just silly,” Keith laughed. “What, not enough controls on the joystick?” Then, out of curiosity he asked, “So, Shiro claims he passes out after two drinks because he’s ‘allergic’. Have you guys ever gotten him really wasted?”

 

Moore fought a smile back. This guy had dirt. “I think the first time we ever brought him here, he was twenty. Shiro only ever stuck to beer but we convinced him to do some shots. He passed out in the bathroom and it took three of us to carry him out of here and stuff him into a cab to get back to the Garrison. He’s fucking heavy, man. We learned our lesson after that. Deadweight-Shiro sucks.”

 

Keith laughed into his can of beer at the thought of a limp Shiro being carried through the dorms by his poor friends.

 

“And never give him tequila!!” Erikson shouted from the video sim booth.

 

Moore nodded. “Oh, yeah. He gets into fights.”

 

“Oh shit!” Keith snickered, loving the incriminating details Shiro's friends were feeding him. “So he occasionally loses his composure.”

 

“It has been known to happen.” Just then, the standard dive bar indie music was cut off by the jukebox playing the famous opening riff to The Who’s “Baba O’Riley.” “Who let Shiro near the jukebox?” Moore called out, looking around. “Cora, you gotta unplug that thing!”

 

Cora shrugged behind the bar. “I was getting tired of hearing The Shins anyway,” she called back.

 

“I thought he was still in the bathroom,” Keith said to Moore as he watched Shiro mingle at the bar, seltzer in hand.

 

“He’s sneaky,” was Moore’s response. “How’s the Garrison treatin’ ya?”

 

“Not bad, I guess. Better lately.” _Thanks to Shiro…_ “We’ll see how finals go but I’m ready to start actual flight school and be done with all the studying and bullshit prerequisites.”

 

“I hear ya, gets so much better after that.”

 

Shiro headed towards Keith and Moore, singing, on the verge of fist pumping out of sheer love for the song. He slung his arm around Keith again and pulled him close, jostling him as he sang, “Teenage wasteland, it’s only teenage wasteland…” Then he paused and pointed to Keith’s beer. “Ummm… I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

 

“I’ll be fine, Shiro, I can handle myself.” Keith went from feeling warm and fuzzy to annoyed in two seconds flat. He needed Shiro to stop treating him like a kid.

 

“Shiro, I did my fair share of underage drinking here. It’s like a Garrison rite of passage,” Moore defended Keith's PBR can.

 

“Yeah, fine if you're twenty. You’re not even close.”

 

“Close enough. What matters is I can handle myself.” Keith was getting tired of being told he was too young for... everything.

 

“Four years is _not_ close enough.”

 

“ _Three_ years.”

 

Shiro huffed, “Still… Fine, just keep it discreet... You racing me or what?” Shiro nodded towards the second flight sim booth.

 

“Fuck yeah, I am.” Keith walked over and climbed in. Shiro climbed in next to him, drumming on the dash as his song finished playing. Keith watched as the idle screen scrolled through top scores and smiled at ‘Shirogane’ at the top of the list.

 

Woolf was next to Keith in the first sim. “Hey, man, I think we're having a party for July Fourth and my brother's graduation. You should come, bring your friend, we'll introduce them. I'll text Shiro the details. And Shiro, I'm inviting Alexis, you need to make your move.”

 

Shiro shook his head.

 

“Shiro, swear to god, if you don't hit that, I will,” Erikson shouted over Woolf and Keith. “She’s so fucking hot.”

 

Shiro stared ahead expressionless, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Keith poked Shiro’s side with a smirk. “Who's Alexis?”

 

“Communications assistant. Not interested.”

 

“Oh, that blonde girl that’s always bothering you?”

 

Shiro just grunted.

 

“Oh, Shiro, we were also gonna do Medina’s birthday here next Saturday. You around?” Woolf asked.

 

Shiro checked the calendar on his phone. “Yep, all clear. Next Saturday, got it,” Shiro responded, tapping the details into his schedule. “ _You_ around next weekend?” he asked Keith.

 

“I'm _always_ around...”

 

Keith and Shiro raced one round, Shiro beating Keith by a cool sixty seconds and 3000 points. His fighter jet was also intact. “You led me straight into that orange alien thing!” Keith protested, his screen flashing red, indicating he’d lost part of his left wing.

 

“Stop complaining and learn from your mistakes. Let's go again.”

 

Keith channeled all of his frustration into the second flight and lost to Shiro by 1.9 seconds and twenty points. Moore hooted from outside the booth, “My money's on Keith next time!”

 

Woolf leaned out of his booth and looked at Keith’s screen. “Whoa!! Where’d you find this kid?!”

 

Keith beamed at Shiro with a smug smile. “I'm coming for you.” Shiro just laughed as the other officers crowded around and cheered Keith on during the third race which he lost by a mere tenth of a second.

 

\-----

 

Keith smoked outside the bar, chuckling at Jocko’s interactions with the various people he ID’d. They’d been at the bar for at least two hours and Keith was feeling good, three beers deep. The clouds from the afternoon had dissipated and it was a clear and cool night. Keith had on Shiro’s hoodie, but he still shivered a bit. Even in June, the desert nights rarely got above fifty degrees.

 

The door creaked open and Shiro walked out. “You ready to head back, Keith?”

 

“Yeah, unfortunately… I need to get up early to start studying tomorrow.”

 

“I figured.” Shiro looked up at the clear sky and smiled. “Saturn’s out.”

 

Keith looked up; he should know which “stars” were planets at the very least. But Shiro could show him... “You want to head back into the desert? I can spare another hour of sleep.”

 

\-----

 

They both lay on their backs, legs dangling over the edge of a small cliff, shoulders touching. Shiro pointed out different planets, constellations, portions of the sky where the Milky Way was visible. Keith was...really content. He could happily stay here for the rest of his life.

 

Keith contemplated the logistics of seamlessly rolling over and straddling Shiro’s hips to kiss him but the terror of rejection held him in place. If he could just roll onto his side and hook his ankle around Shiro's... Keith sat up as the thought sent a shiver down his spine. He rubbed his hands along his arms to warm up. “You still cold?” Shiro sat up next to him. “Here, take my jacket.”

 

“I’m OK,” Keith protested.

 

Shiro put the jacket over his shoulders anyway. Shiro always got his way. “Come on, let’s get you back,” Shiro said quietly as he rubbed Keith’s back.

 

They mounted the bike for the last time that night and rode fifteen minutes back to the Garrison campus. Keith's hold on Shiro felt more like a tired hug at this point, his body fully relaxing into Shiro's weight.

 

They pulled up to the dorms and Shiro idled as Keith pulled off the helmet and jacket, handing them back. Shiro pulled off his helmet as well, running his hand through his hair. “All right, well, good luck studying… Oh, almost forgot.” Shiro turned to grab one of the bamboo swords, presenting it with both hands. Keith’s hands brushed Shiro’s as he accepted the sword.

 

Keith’s butterflies migrated from his stomach to his throat. _Do it, just do it._ “I had fun today,” Keith stalled. “And, thanks for dinner.” _Just fucking do it…_

 

“I’m glad. See? You needed a break.”

 

“Yeah, guess so.” Keith hoped the tremble in his voice wasn’t noticeable.

 

Keith leaned in, hesitated, and then planted a chaste kiss on Shiro’s cheek. “Good night.” Keith quickly turned and walked back towards his dorm, not wanting to look back to see Shiro’s reaction. He’d deal with it later, his nerves were shot.

 

He made his way to the third floor and into his dorm room, sliding down the door after he closed it, hands shaking, heart still pounding. He got up to lie on his bed, tossing text books off the edge and pulling Shiro’s black hoodie off. Keith needed to shower to get the desert dust out of his hair but he couldn’t muster the energy as he buried his head in the warm black fleece and taking in deep whiffs of Shiro’s residual scent.

 

\-----

 

Shiro clenched his eyes shut, burying his face in his hands, and taking deep breaths while the bike idled outside the dormitory.

 

 _What the hell am I doing? I’ve gone too far. Even if he’s eighteen soon, that’s still a five-year difference. And he’s a student. He’s just so young, and impressionable, and inexperienced and… FUCK. He’s probably still a virgin._ Shiro shuddered at the thought and desire pooled in his groin. It had been so long. He was making himself crazy spending so much time around this boy; this gorgeous boy with fair skin and delicate features, lean frame, long black hair, haunting eyes...

 

He had yet to sort through his intentions; he just felt drawn to Keith and let things happen naturally. When Keith _actually_ smiled it was so genuine. And he had so much potential as a pilot. But Shiro couldn’t deny that he really wanted to know what noise he’d make when he came, what his face would look like when he moaned...

 

Shiro needed a release. Something animalistic was clawing its way out of his skin. He checked the time. It was 22:30. Flagstaff was an hour’s drive west by highway, but he could cut through the desert and be there by 23:00… Shiro checked his wallet. He had one condom.

 

Shiro pulled out of the dorm parking lot, checked the bike’s compass, and headed west.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for part 2...


	10. We used to escape into the desert: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the smut. Also, alternating POVs. Don’t hate me...

Keith startled awake. He must’ve dozed off for a half-hour. He wrinkled his nose; his cheek was wet and he’d drooled on Shiro’s hoodie. _Ugh, I’m going to need to wash this before I give it back._ He scratched his head and frowned at the sight of all the dirt under his nails from the desert. He just wanted to sleep, but he fought to stand up.

 

\-----

 

Hardware was a little “clubby” for Shiro’s taste but it was the only LGBTQ bar he frequented in the area. He parked out back and checked his hair in the hover bike’s rearview. He took off his bomber and unbuttoned his chambray shirt, balled it up, and threw it in the seat compartment. He only had a black tank on but it was adequate for his agenda. He pulled off his officers’ dog tags, threw them on top of the pile, and closed the seat compartment. He shivered in the cool air but carried his jacket as he strolled around front to the bar entrance.

 

He walked in and smiled at Jackie, the transgender female bartender who happened to always be working when he came in.  

 

“Takashi, long time no see, doll.”

 

“Yeah, been busy. You look good.” Shiro sat in the middle of the bar.

 

“Thanks, you too,” she smiled. “What can I get you?”

 

“Uh, I’ll just take a Guinness. And water. Thank you.” Shiro looked around and then distracted himself with a few work emails on his phone. He didn’t like to be overconfident, but…he didn’t need to prowl around the bar. They _always_ came to him.

 

\-----

 

Keith searched his dresser drawers for a clean pair of underwear and tee to sleep in before taking a shower. His eyes were still blurry from sleep and he couldn’t immediately find what he was looking for. _Fuck it._ He wandered to the bathroom.

 

\-----

 

It only took twenty minutes. A slender Filipino boy, about Shiro’s age, approached and stood next to him at the bar. His hair was bleach-blonde with black roots and pulled into a messy pony tail, nails painted navy blue, a stack of leather bracelets on one wrist. His skin was flawless and a stunning, rich tan.

 

“Jackie, can I get another vodka tonic?” the guy called, holding up his empty glass. He looked Shiro up and down while he waited, Shiro pretending to not notice. “Hi there, I’ve never seen _you_ here before.”

 

Shiro smiled, fidgeting with his pint glass, centering the glass on the napkin. “I don’t come here that much.”

 

“Not from around here?”

 

“I live near Sun Valley. You a student?”

 

“Grad school. Climate science and solutions.”

 

“Sounds way over my head,” was Shiro's attempt at indirect flattery. Jackie brought the dark-skinned boy’s drink over. “Jackie, you can put that on my tab.”

 

“Thank you,” the boy smiled flirtatiously, taking the drink and sitting down. “I’m Jules.”

 

“Takashi.”

 

“What do you do in Sun Valley?” Jules questioned, eyeing Shiro’s arms.

 

“Construction.”

 

\-----

 

Keith looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He winced as he raised one arm to grab his toothbrush. He was so sore. Shiro must’ve been a bitch of a drill sergeant in his first year as an officer.

 

\-----

 

“I was hoping you were going to tell me that you were a firefighter,” Jules leaned in. “I would buy that fucking calendar.”

 

Shiro laughed into his drink. “I do _not_ run into burning buildings, sorry to disappoint you.”

 

“Something tells me you are _far_ from disappointing...” Jules purred.

 

Shiro smiled his “shy” smile. It worked every time.

 

They continued their small talk, their drinks diminishing in volume. Shiro drank quickly when he was trying to think of what to say next, so he was sufficiently buzzed after one beer given his insanely low tolerance.

 

\-----

 

Keith stepped out of his underwear and fidgeted with his hair waiting for the shower water to heat up. The events from the day played through his head over and over. Each time, he over-analyzed every detail, every little touch, every little smile.

 

\-----

 

The obnoxious Katy Perry remix faded into The Weeknd’s “Starboy.”

 

“Oh, I love this song. Come dance with me,” Jules beckoned, tugging at Shiro’s arm.

 

“I’m not much of a dancer, but...you’re not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” Shiro flirted.

 

Jules shook his head and flashed him his best bedroom eyes as he pulled Shiro off the barstool toward the dance floor.

 

\-----

 

Keith let the water run over his hair and face, praying that it was sufficient to get the desert sand out of every pore. The warmth brought him back to the feeling of his weight against Shiro’s body on the bike, the bike’s vibrations echoing deep down inside him.

 

\-----

 

Jules ran his slender hands up Shiro’s chest and interlaced his hands behind Shiro’s neck as they danced closely. He stood on tiptoes and licked into Shiro’s mouth; Shiro’s eyes fluttered closed, thinking of Keith, probably in bed sleeping.

 

_‘Look what you’ve done_

_I’m a motherfuckin’ starboy’_

 

Shiro’s hands held Jules’ waist and his breath caught when Jules lewdly grinded on his thigh. Shiro detested PDA but his motivation was a little more desperate than usual. He bit Jules’ lower lip, running his hands up along his ribs as they continued to make out feverishly on the dance floor, the bass reverberating throughout his body, rattling his reason.

 

_‘Look what you’ve done_

_I’m a motherfuckin’ starboy’_

 

\-----

 

Keith felt the blood slowly harden his cock in response to the overwhelming memories of Shiro’s proximity earlier that day. The arm around his shoulders. The hands holding his waist. The gentle touch that tucked Keith’s hair behind his ear.

 

\-----

 

“Can I take you home?”

 

Shiro nodded, mouth never leaving Jules’.

 

“I’m in the apartment complex just across the street.” Jules led Shiro by the hand toward the exit. Shiro paused to grab his coat and pay his tab. They crossed the street and Shiro looked up, searching the sky again. “What are you looking at?” Jules questioned as they hurried to his place.

 

“You could see Saturn earlier but I think it set already.”

 

“You a fucking astronomer or something?” Jules laughed.

 

 _No_...

 

\-----

 

Keith mindlessly stroked his length at first. But the thought of what it would’ve been like to straddle Shiro under the stars brought more purpose to his movements.

 

\-----

 

The two men crashed through Jules’ front door, Jules laughing into Shiro’s ravenous mouth as his keys dropped on the floor. Shrio picked the tan boy up and hoisted him against the wall, rocking his hips into Jules for friction. “Superman, I have a bed,” Jules giggled as he nodded towards the door on his right.

 

Shiro tossed Jules on the bed and was immediately on him, devouring his neck, his mouth, his ear lobe, while Jules sucked Shiro’s collarbone, leaving a large bruise. Shiro then yanked Jules’ pants and shirt off and held his arms above his head while running his hand over the length of his lean torso, nipping at his left nipple. Jules gasped and then broke Shiro’s hold, sitting up. He gestured at Shiro’s clothes. “Off,” he demanded.

 

\-----

 

Keith’s entire body jerked as he flicked his wrist before lazily rolling his hips into his hand again. The pooling desire intensified at the base of his scrotum as he thought about how the beads of sweat trickled down the back of Shiro’s neck in the gym two weeks ago. He imagined what it would be like to have Shiro in the shower with him, watching him, touching him, encouraging him.

 

\-----

 

Shiro peeled his tank off over his head and Jules ran his hands over every muscular peak and valley of Shiro’s body. “Goddamn,” Jules admired. Shiro laughed in the crook of his neck. He then pulled off his boxer briefs and flipped their positions so Jules was on top. Jules shimmied out of his briefs and reached over Shiro for the lube in his nightstand drawer. Shiro hungrily licked along Jules’ hipbone as Jules dug through the drawer for a condom.

 

\-----

 

Keith stroked himself harder and moaned as he moved his thumb up and over the head, across his slit, feeling the slickness of his precum wash away. He leaned his forearm on the tile and rested his head against it, driving his hips into his hand.

 

\-----

 

Shiro held the base of his own cock as Jules slowly sank down after he’d hurriedly prepped himself, his fingers still gleaming obscenely with lube. Shiro licked the length of his own hand and wrapped it around Jules’ untouched arousal between their bodies, smearing precum down the head and massaging the underside with his finger in circles. Jules moaned loudly as he bottomed out while Shiro ran his fist down his length at the same time.

 

\-----

 

Water streamed over Keith’s face as he fucked into his hand. The white-hot heat in his groin released and overflowed. Keith’s head snapped back as he came spilling over his hand and down his leg, Shiro’s name on his lips.

 

\-----

 

Shiro flipped them over so that he was on top again, Jules hooked his ankles behind Shiro’s hips. Shiro continued stroking Jules’ cock as he fucked into him harder. Jules giggled as the headboard banged harder into the wall with each of Shiro’s aggressive thrusts. “Superman, please don’t break my bed,” he laughed.

 

“You want me to stop?” Shiro teased as he slowed significantly and stalled on the verge of pulling out.

 

“No, no, no, no. God no. Please,” Jules begged.

 

“You sure? I can stop...” Shiro said darkly.

 

Jules rolled his eyes into the back of his head and shook his head no.

 

“You want it?” Even darker.

 

“Mmhm.” Jules swallowed and nodded.

 

“Tell me,” his voice rumbled.

 

“I want it, I want…please....more.” He squirmed but Shiro held him still.

 

Shiro sucked at the throbbing pulse of the tan boy’s throat and then dragged his teeth around his Adam’s apple as he drove back into him. Hard. “Fuck!!” Jules shouted and then giggled some more. “My neighbors are going to be so pissed at me.”

 

Shiro increased his intensity and pumped Jules’ erection faster; Jules covered his mouth as he came, writhing under Shiro, clenching around Shiro. Shiro followed shortly after, convulsing quietly, teeth digging deeper into Jules’ neck.

 

\-----

 

Keith grimaced as he tried washing the cum stuck to his ankle. At least he didn’t feel like he was going to jump out of his own skin anymore. Apparently Keith’s brain could only handle so much Shiro before driving him over the edge.  

 

He toweled off and climbed into bed naked. Resting his head on the hoodie again, he fell asleep, warm, clean, and comfortable with the smell of Shiro surrounding him.

 

\-----

 

“You can crash here if you want,” Jules offered, absent-mindedly drawing circles on Shiro’s chest.

 

“What time is it?”

 

“One, I think. It’s an hour drive back to Sun Valley. Just stay. I don’t snore. Or at least no one’s ever told me I do.”

 

Shiro smiled and nodded, closing his eyes, “Kay...”

 

\-----

 

Shiro awoke with a start as the sun rose. He was disoriented at first by the unfamiliar sounds and smells of his surroundings. The night’s events came back to him as he looked over at the dark-skinned boy next to him, bleached hair splayed over the pillow.

 

 _Shit._ Shiro pressed his hand into his eyes. He felt like such a scumbag and he had a pounding headache from dehydration. He needed to go.

 

He quietly set out searching for his discarded clothes strewn about the room and quietly cursed as he stepped on the used condom. _Ugh, what the hell is wrong with me?_

 

He stood in the bathroom and attempted to make himself presentable to the outside world, flinching when he pressed his finger into the enormous hickey Jules left near his clavicle. Jules stirred as Shiro tiptoed out of the bathroom and past the bed. “Hey,” he said sleepily. “You leaving?”

 

“Yeah, gotta get to work.” Shiro whispered, kneeling down at the side of the bed.

 

“Ugh, it’s Friday isn’t it?” Jules pouted.

 

Shiro quietly chuckled, “Yeah, unfortunately.”

 

Jules groaned and stretched. “I’d show you out but I don’t think I can walk right now.”

 

Shiro winced. “Shit, you ok? I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m golden. I’ll just be a little sore sitting in International Policy,” Jules smiled. “There’s a chalkboard at the entrance, write your number down for me.”

 

“OK,” Shiro whispered.

 

Shiro grabbed his coat off the floor near the entrance, bypassed the chalkboard, and walked out the door.

 

\-----

 

Keith awakened to his alarm and stretched his arms overhead. “Augh!” His entire body ached as he pushed to sit up. It was going to hurt to do anything today. _Fucking Shiro_.

 


	11. You made me soup when I was sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now a little fluff before shit gets real

Keith came down with a cold over the weekend which was lovely timing for finals week. He could barely breathe out of his nose and his still-aching muscles made everything worse. Keith got a hold of his Combatives instructor and was able to push the physical portion of the exam to Friday even though he’d still have to take the written exam on Monday.

 

Between being sick and cramming for finals, he couldn’t obsess too much over Shiro and replay the kiss he planted on Shiro’s cheek over, and over, and over… _I don’t have time for this. Study._

 

After Keith’s exam Monday morning, he got a text from Shiro:

Happy stir fry Monday. You coming by?

 

Keith pouted. He wanted to see Shiro so badly but he felt like death, complete with puffy eyes and a raw, running nose.

Keith: i can’t, i have a really bad cold.

also have a study session with celine.

next week?

 

Shiro: Oh no! Sorry to hear. Rest up and feel better.

 

Keith: thanks

 

Keith smiled. He thought back to the kiss again. He guessed he hadn’t scared him away after all. This was good. Really, really good.

 

\-----

 

“OK. Permit needed for transporting cargo back to Earth and into the US.” Celine quizzed Keith in his dorm room, sitting on his bed, Keith on the floor holding his head.

 

“Who fucking cares.”

 

“Come on, Keith, I’m not here for shits and giggles.”

 

“Ugh, Permit USGP-209?” _Sneeze._

 

“That’s _from_ Earth. _To_ earth is USGP-509.”

 

“I’m not going to be transporting cargo anyway.”

 

“OK, well, _I_ might be so help me out here. Quiz me then.”

 

Keith groaned and then coughed, “I can’t handle this shit right now.”

 

“You sound terrible.”

 

“I’m actually way better than last night.” He pinched the bridge of his nose hoping it would relieve the pressure in his sinuses. “Ugh, OK… Permit for cargo exceeding 500 kg on an F-307 class or smaller vessel.”

 

A knock on the door interrupted their studying. They both looked at the door. “You expecting someone?” Celine asked.

 

“Umm…no…” Keith stood up. “Who is it?” he called out.

 

“Keith? Hey, it’s Shiro.” _What the..._ Keith’s head snapped to Celine, mouth dropping open.

 

“Open the door,” she whispered, animatedly gesturing.

 

Keith opened the door to Shiro in a heather grey tee, holding… tupperware? “What are you doing here?” Keith asked in disbelief.

 

“Sorry, I know you’re studying and all but since you’re sick I thought I'd bring over some chicken soup,” he said, handing over the tupperware. He then peeked into the room at a wide-eyed Celine sitting on Keith’s bed. “Hey. Celine, right?”

 

“Yeah, hi,” she smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

 

“Likewise.”

 

Keith was still staring at the square container in his hands. “You…made me soup? Like… from scratch?”

 

“No, I dumped a can of Campbell’s in there. Yeah, I made it. It's not that hard. I left the crazy veggies out like leeks and turnips and stuff, I know how picky you are.” Shiro winked. Then Shiro held up a very suspicious-looking bottle with a brownish liquid in it. “This on the other hand you will not like but I swear your cold will be gone in two days if you drink it before bed tonight.”

 

Keith held it up, watching little floaties circle around, and gave it a dubious look.

 

“It’s tea with ginger, lemon, yuzu, daikon radish… It’s a little funky but, trust me, it works. My mom used to make me choke this stuff down when I got sick. Anyway, you have a microwave on your floor to heat up the soup, right?”

 

Keith was still a little in shock. “Yeah. Wow, this is really... sweet of you.”

 

Shiro smiled. “Don't mention it. Take it easy and feel better, OK?”

 

“Kay, thank you.”

 

Shiro waved goodbye to Celine and was gone.

 

“That was the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen,” Celine said.

 

Keith fought back his enormous smile and rolled his eyes. “Stop.”

 

“Seriously, cuter than kittens. Captain Hottie and his home-made soup.”

 


	12. I want to be your weakness

Text from Shiro on Thursday: Hey, feeling any better?

 

Keith: i almost couldn’t keep that crazy concoction down but i feel hella better

 

Shiro: Haha, please tell me you’re referring to the tea and not my soup!

 

Keith: lol

no, soup was really good

tea was funky

your words not mine

thanks again

 

Shiro: My pleasure

 

“‘My _pleasure’_?! He’s so fucking into you!!” Celine said, reading Keith’s texts over his shoulder.

 

“Celine, what the fuck?” Keith’s phone buzzed again.

 

Shiro: We’re still having Medina’s bday at radio bar, Saturday

Can you come?

 

“Yes, all over your face,” Celine interjected.

 

“I hate you.” Keith pushed Celine away. “I’m not bringing you to meet that Woolf kid next week.”

 

“I know where he lives, I don’t need you,” she joked, hugging Keith. “I still can’t believe Captain Shirogane is gay, so many girls are in love with him...”

 

Keith paused. “Look… I don’t think anyone really knows about… you know.”

 

“What do you mean?” Celine’s tone became instantly concerned.

 

“Well, he’s more like, bi...but no one knows about it. He thinks it'll mess up his opportunities as an officer, so… just don't tell anyone. Okay?”

 

Celine furrowed her brow. “I won't, but... what does that mean for you?”

 

“I'm not even there yet, so…” _Good fucking question._

 

\------

 

Keith was back to one hundred percent by Friday. The combatives physical exam was cake and Keith’s finals had posted for his other classes: A in every class except law. _Fuck that stupid class._

 

Riding high from his final grades, all Keith had to do in the week off between quarters was schedule flight classes. Keith was giddy for Saturday and his usual social anxiety was overridden by the thought of being around Shiro again.

 

\-----

 

Keith got ready Saturday night. He tried on a million shirts (OK, six) but went with a dark grey V-neck tee and tight, destructed black jeans. He had to make a move tonight; this “Shiro limbo” was going to make him crazy.

 

Keith waited an hour to leave his dorm; if he arrived late, then people would already be sufficiently buzzed so that he wouldn't have to worry about his awkwardness as much. Plus, he could rely on the downtown bus to be crazy late per usual.

 

\-----

 

Keith walked a block from the bus stop to Radio Bar. He said hi to Jocko who gave him an enormous bear hug and let him walk in front of a growing line to get into the bar. To Keith’s surprise, most of Shiro's crew cheered when he walked in the door. Moore was the first to come up and throw an arm around him. “Prodigy!! We've already got a bet started for you killing Shiro tonight in the video game sim. So, you know, don't make me lose my money to Erikson. No pressure or anything,” Moore half-joked.

 

“I’ve only played that thing once. You guys are betting on us?” Keith was partly flattered and partly intimidated.

 

“You got exponentially better with each race last time. I have full confidence in you!” Moore walked with him up to the bar and got him a beer.

 

Keith wished Medina a happy birthday as he passed by, searching for Shiro. He caught Erikson's blue eyes in the crowd and the Lieutenant acknowledged him a curt nod. Before Keith could overanalyze Erikson's stiff expression, Woolf rushed Keith and handed him his credit card. “Keith, buddy, you made it! I need you to play music on the jukebox before Shiro gets to it. Seriously, an hour’s worth of music if you have to. Shiro will be pissed if he knows it was me.”

 

“OK... any specifics?”

 

“No, just no AC/DC. Please.”

 

Keith laughed. Apparently Shiro tortured everyone with his classic rock. He scanned the bar again but didn't see Shiro. OK… he could hang with some people he hardly knew ‘til Shiro got here...right? Luckily he now had beer to help...

 

Keith walked up to the juke box screen and started entering selections, grateful for the distraction and excuse not to make small talk with people. _Let’s see, start with some crowd pleasers: Panic! at the Disco, OK Go, Spoon, LCD Soundsystem, transition to some 90s Placebo, these guys probably like Red Hot Chili Peppers, Weezer couldn't hurt… what else?_  He stopped there. He looked around at the crowd. Shiro's crew had invited a ton of straight girls that would eventually override his selections for the chance to dance on the bar to Lady Gaga. He looked back at the juke box, maybe some Big Boi and Kanye to round out the selection, for now. He finished his beer… _wow that was fast._

 

“What do you think _you're_ doing?” Shiro’s voice rumbled behind Keith.

 

Shiro wrapped his hand over Keith's mouth as he started picking songs. Keith laughed and fought. He watched as Journey, the Cars and David Bowie  got thrown into the mix. “Don't make me play Gn’R,” Shiro threatened. Keith struggled more and Shiro held him tighter, sliding his hand over Keith's eyes, holding the side of his head tight into his chest to keep him from interfering or calling for help. “Stop squirming, I'm finding a song for you.” With Keith's ear pressed into Shiro, he could hear his voice reverberating in his chest. Keith paused, listening to Shiro's heartbeat. Keith briefly closed his eyes and took in Shiro’s smell. God, this boy was going to kill him.

 

Shiro released Keith and held up his hands. “OK?” Shiro looked adorably casual in a white Chunichi Dragons tee full of Japanese characters and a cute little blue dragon logo; Keith assumed it was a baseball team based on the font.

 

“What on earth did you play? Woolf’s going to be so pissed.”

 

“You said you grew up in LA, right?” Shiro smirked.

 

Keith listened as 2Pac came on... “California love”?? That… was not what he expected Shiro to play. Keith threw up his hands. “What!?”

 

Shiro laughed and nodded his head to the beat. He turned to wait at the bar for his beer, glancing over at Keith and laughing at Keith's still-stunned expression.  A bunch of girls formed a dance floor behind the crowd at the bar.

 

_In the city, city of Compton._

_We keep it rocking, we keep it rocking_

 

Shiro turned around with two beers, handing one off to Keith, and gave one _SLOW_ , vulgar pelvic thrust with the beat and started rapping word for word with Dre. Keith couldn't help but laugh his ass off.

 

_Now lemme welcome everybody to the wild wild west..._

 

 _What?!..._ Shiro was in rare form tonight; he'd been full of surprises lately. Keith got his hopes up but realized he was surrounded by Shiro’s friends, none of whom knew that he swung both ways…and hopefully Keith's way, but...Keith realized he was likely not going to get answers tonight after all.

 

A random girl grabbed Shiro and wrestled him to the makeshift dance floor. Keith frowned. Now he was just standing by himself without eye candy/entertainment. He started drinking his second beer as quickly as the first. He wandered back towards Woolf to return the credit card, glancing back at Shiro, who was still rapping in perfect time with the song. Keith didn't feel the usual pang of jealousy as he watched him dancing with the girls. Shiro didn't make them soup when they were sick. Keith smiled inwardly.

 

“Hey,” Keith got Woolf's attention, “Shiro commandeered towards the end so I can't be held fully responsible.”

 

“We tried,” Woolf shrugged. “Still coming next Thursday?”

 

“Yeah, definitely, thanks for the invite.” Keith glanced over at Shiro again. Shiro was looking directly at Keith, throwing up a middle finger as he finished rapping with Dre.

 

 _Throw up a finger if ya feel the same way_ _  
_ _Dre puttin’ it down for Californ-I-A_

 

Woolf laughed at Shiro's display. “Fucking nerd. Hey! Get over here and race Keith so I can get paid when he kicks your ass!”

 

Shiro walked over. “I was going to get him liquored up first to improve my odds,” he grinned, ruffling Keith's hair.

 

Woolf put his arm around Keith in defense. “You stay away from him, I need him to be clear-headed and in peak operating condition.”

 

“Did _all_ of my friends bet against me?!”

 

“Hell yeah, we did,” Medina chimed in. “Except Erikson. He felt bad for you.”

 

Shiro feigned hurt and betrayal by grasping at his chest. “All right then…” He grabbed Keith's hand and dragged him to the back where the game sim booths were. “Let's do this!” he announced. Half the bar followed them. Keith and Shiro got into the sim booth on their respective sides.

 

Erikson stood on a chair as emcee and drummed on the top of the booth to get everyone’s attention. “OK boys, we're racing for time, not points, so play as dirty as you want without physically interfering with each other’s steering and control panel. No third-party help, interferences or distractions. Moore and Sarah, I'm looking at you two.  We've all agreed on a difficulty setting of four since Keith has only done this one other time. And we've picked the ‘lunar canyons’ stage because Shiro hates it.” The group laughed.

 

“Come on guys,” Shiro complained.

 

“We'll do one non-competitive fly-through so the rookie can familiarize himself with the terrain. Best of three wins. Oh, and we enabled follow-the-leader mode, because it's boring if you two fly away from each other or in different air spaces. What else...You can shoot at obstacles and shit in your path but not at each other. And you get one jet boost per round. Anything I’ve forgotten?” Erikson looked around. “All right, let's fly.”

 

Keith wished he hadn't downed two beers already. He leaned forward intently and studied the obstacles, the layout... he could do this.  The race was through this enormous meandering canyon. Treacherous obstacles lined the bottom which was a shorter and tighter path to the finish; the more open airspace up top was a longer distance to the finish point. All the way into the atmosphere, ominous clouds brewed some sort of strange weather. There were also all kinds of caves in the canyon rock that appeared to be shortcuts. Shiro sat back the entire time, legs spread wide, nursing his beer, navigating with one hand.

 

 _I can do this_.

 

Erikson reset the game and the screen counted down. 3...2...1

 

Shiro sprang forward out of the corner of Keiths eye, suddenly intense as everyone cheered them on. Shiro tried bumping him off the course into the sides of the canyon. Keith attempted a shortcut but Shiro blocked him. Keith stole a glance over at Shiro who gave him a sly sidelong smile. It was so sexy. _Concentrate, Keith_.

 

Keith realized what Shiro was doing here; he was going to mess with him and play defense, bang up his aircraft, and then take off at the last straightaway unscathed. _Ok, think Keith, why does Shiro hate this stage?_ Shiro was trying to keep him up high and Keith could see the treacherous and uneven terrain and geysers at the bottom of the canyon. _OK, he's avoiding unnecessary maneuvering, but if he wants to keep messing with me and blocking my access to the shortcuts, he's gotta follow me down._

 

Keith used a jet boost to cut Shiro off and then took a nosedive.

 

“You mother fucker,” Shiro cursed.

 

“She's not my type. Your daddy on the other hand…” Keith trash-talked.

 

Shiro shouted as he got blasted by a geyser but then used his jet boost to block Keith's access to another shortcut.

 

“Is that where you get your looks from? Daddy? Is he a silver fox?”

 

“No distractions!” Shiro shouted over the sound effects as he rammed Keith’s aircraft again. The people outside the sim cheered and banged on the sides of the booth.

 

“No _physical_ distractions!” Keith dove lower. “Oral is allowed.” Keith then expertly maneuvered around a rock column that appeared as he made a sharp turn. “So, would I call him _Mr_. Shiro? Would he like that?”

 

“Fuck!” Shiro barely missed running into a rock overhang.

 

“You or your daddy?”

 

“Keith!! _INAPPROPRIATE_! I’m dragging you to the bathroom after this to wash out your mouth with soap!”

 

“And then you'll spank me?”

 

“What?!”

 

“Belt or your bare hand?”

 

Shiro took the bait and faltered for a second. Keith sped ahead as Shiro's friends screamed from outside the booth. Shiro cursed again as he failed to close their gap and maneuver around all the obstacles Keith bullied him into with his aircraft.

 

Keith flew across the finish and almost thought he'd go deaf from the sound that erupted from the crowd outside the sim coupled with the chanting of his name. Keith gave Shiro a smug smile. “Keep up, old man!” Keith laughed at Shiro's shocked face.

 

“I still can't believe the filth that just came out of your mouth!”

 

“You’re the one dropping F-bombs,” Keith retorted.

 

“Rookie!” Medina peeked his head in and grabbed Keith's shoulder, jostling him. “Holy shit! That was incredible! Good fucking job. Shiro!! You are _old_ news, old-timer!!”

 

“No messing around this time.” Shiro jabbed Keith in the chest with his finger.

 

Keith laughed. “You're easily distracted.” He poked Shiro in the ribs. Shiro playfully smacked his hand away.

 

The sim started counting down again. “Time to take you to school, little boy,” Shiro said with a smirk and took off before Keith could look back at the screen. _Shit_. He followed him up high again, higher than before. Random asteroid-like rocks started raining down. The sim’s janky hydraulics jostled Keith.

 

“What the hell is this?!”

 

“Yeah, you like that?”

 

“Fuck you!” Keith spat. _Although, I do like when you talk like that…_

 

“What's wrong, outta trash talk? Can’t handle the elements, kiddo?”

 

Keith’s vision rattled as his wing was damaged by a large rock. He couldn't talk, he had to focus on this insane onslaught of nature? Weather? _What the hell is this?_

 

Shiro leaned over, keeping his focus ahead. “Beginner’s luck is a bitch…”  His voice was dark and deep. He swerved into Keith and took his aircraft down. Keith’s screen turned red and Shiro finished the race with zero competition. _Dammit_.

 

The Shiro supporters cheered; team Keith groaned.

 

Keith was fuming. He couldn't even dwell on the sexiness of Shiro's taunting words. He glared at Shiro who met his eyes with a mischievous grin. Their eye contact lingered and Keith could hear Shiro’s music selections still playing in the background:

 

_Rebel Rebel, you’ve torn your dress_

_Rebel Rebel, your face is a mess_

_Rebel Rebel, how could they know?_

 

Keith curled his lip, never breaking eye contact, trying to slow his breath. Shiro kept grinning and mouthed the last line to the chorus.

 

_Hot tramp, I love you so._

“You ready for round three?” Shiro said out loud, holding up three fingers.

 

Keith swallowed. Was the David Bowie lyric a coincidence or did he mean something by it?

 

The video game screens counted down again. Keith pushed Shiro out of his head and accelerated, using his only jet boost right out of the gate so that Shiro would have to follow him down into the depths of the canyon. Keith bobbed and weaved around the stalagmites through a cave shortcut. He shot a stalactite down to block one of the exits out.

 

“Dammit!” Shiro swerved and found an alternate exit.

 

 _He has fast reflexes_ , Keith thought as he glanced over at Shiro’s screen. Shiro caught up and everyone was crammed around the booth, shouting. Keith tried crowding Shiro to cause him to run into a boulder but Shiro pulled some fancy roll over him and gained the lead. _Fuck, I don’t even know how to do that._ “Showoff,” Keith called out.

 

Shiro’s lead pulled Keith up out of the bottom of the canyon and into Shiro’s preferred territory. They hit a weird patch of turbulence and Keith slowed as Shiro powered through but Keith took advantage of Shiro’s confidence in his lead and pulled into another shortcut that Shiro had overlooked. “Shit, shit, shit!” Shiro swore.

 

Keith sped through the tunnel and came out right in front of Shiro as he made the turn on the course. “You got it, Keith,” he heard Moore shout. “Pay me, bitches!”

 

Shiro’s last jet boost wasn't enough. Keith beat Shiro by just under one second and the bar cheered. Medina tore Keith out of the sim and gave him an enormous hug. “Oh shit, son! I’m buying you a drink!”

 

Keith watched Shiro get out with a huge smile on his face. He walked over and offered his hand. Keith took it and Shiro pulled him into a “bro” hug. “Nice flying, man,” he said into Keith’s hair. Of course Shiro was a good sport.

 

Everyone congratulated Keith as he got pulled towards the bar and lost sight of Shiro. Erikson stood at the bar organizing the money to distribute while Keith took two shots with Medina. “I should be buying _you_ drinks,” Keith shouted over the crowd.

 

“No way, man, you beating Shiro is my birthday gift,” Medina joked with a huge smile as they clinked shot glasses. Woolf handed Keith another can of PBR.  

 

Keith made his way to the bathroom and swayed slightly at the urinal. His next drink needed to be water... He walked over to the sink to wash his hands as Shiro entered the bathroom. “Hey,” Shiro greeted casually as he walked over to the urinal. Keith dried his hands and willed himself not to turn around. Shiro’s penis was out of his pants and mere feet away from Keith. Keith grabbed his beer and paused at the door, watching Shiro zip his fly while he walked towards the sink. It dawned on Keith that he’d never had to share a bathroom with someone he had a major crush on.

 

“Sorry about the trash-talking earlier... I got carried away,” Keith offered.

 

Shiro laughed, “You apologizing ‘cause I’m standing near the soap?”

 

Keith smiled and swayed a bit. “No.”

 

Shiro looked at Keith with concern, eyebrows knit together. “Uh, I think you need water from here on out.”

 

“Yeah… probably. I’ll be fine, Shiro.”

 

“OK… I don’t want to have to carry you home.”

 

 _I think I would like that._ “Don’t worry. By the way, that roll you pulled was pretty slick.”

 

“Thanks,” Shiro winked.

 

“Can you teach me?”

 

“I’m supposed to let Medina beat me in darts but he’s probably too drunk to remember he challenged me at this point.”

 

They walked out as Erikson stood on a barstool for a toast, a glass of whisky raised. “Medina, you are now a quarter of a century old and have nothing to show for it.” The group chuckled. “But we love you anyway. Happy birthday, you old bastard. Cheers!”

 

“Cheers!” the bar answered. Shiro shared Keith’s can of PBR for the toast. Keith stared at the can where Shiro’s mouth had just been as they wandered into the crowd.

 

“Yep, Medina’s definitely too drunk for darts.” Shiro leaned over towards Keith after mingling among the crowd for a while. “The drunker he gets, the more he squints and... his eyes are almost completely closed,” Shiro laughed. Keith felt Shiro’s hand on his back, nudging him towards the flight sims again. “Come on.”

 

They both climbed in and Shiro pulled up a one-player scenario and taught Keith some fun stunts that he wouldn’t learn in flight school. After a half-hour they exhausted the challenging scenarios and sat in the booth, enjoying the isolation from the dancing and chaos occurring throughout the rest of the bar.

 

“Seriously, that was some good flying back there. It’s like... in your blood. You’re going to be so killer in flight school.” Shiro patted Keith’s leg. “Which starts after break, right? This is it.”

 

Keith smiled and tried to ignore Shiro's warm hand, lingering on his thigh. “Yeah. Thanks, I’m just happy I found something I’m good at. I’m going to need your help with astronomy and navigation homework next quarter, though.”

 

“Anything you need,” Shiro offered.

 

 _Oh god._ Keith downed his beer. Was this number three or four? He’d lost count. The alcohol from the shots earlier loosened Keith’s muscles and gave him a little more courage than he normally possessed. “Hey, Shiro?”

 

“Yeah?” Their eyes locked.

 

Keith went for it.

 

He ducked his head as he moved over the center console and straddled Shiro, sitting in his lap. “Keith, what-” Keith swallowed Shiro’s words with a hesitant and soft, open-mouthed kiss. Keith felt Shiro’s lips pause at first but then chased Keith’s as Keith finished the kiss. He leaned in again but Shiro held him in place with a hand on either side of his head, cradling his skull. “Keith…” He opened his eyes to Shiro shaking his head no. “I can’t…”

 

“Why?” Keith attempted to close the meager centimeters between their lips, their open mouths hovering on the verge of a second kiss but Shiro held him in place, preventing him from closing the distance any further.

 

“Keith, you’re drunk.”

 

“I know what I’m doing. I know what I want.”

 

Shiro shook his head again. “There’s definitely a rule in the handbook somewhere about officers not being able to ‘be with’ cadets.”

 

“I don’t give a fuck about the handbook.”

 

“Keith, seriously. I’m too old for you.”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“Says the person that doesn’t have to worry about looking like the creepy old guy…”

 

Keith huffed. “Celine’s parents are like, ten years apart.” But Shiro had rattled off way too many excuses at this point. Keith sat back, remaining in Shiro's lap. “Shiro...everything you do, is for _everyone else_. You’re always in control but you’re just being strong for other people. What about you? It’s OK to be weak once in awhile. If people think you’re weak then, fuck them.”

 

Shiro searched Keith’s eyes but wound up shaking his head no. His left hand moved to Keith’s hip to keep him from nudging his pelvis any closer, his thumb pressing into Keith’s hip bone, his hand trembling as he internalized his own battle within.

 

Keith slowly leaned forward again, interlacing his hands around the back of Shiro’s neck for another kiss. “I want to be your weakness,” he said, lips hovering over Shiro’s.

 

Shiro’s chest heaved. “Keith...I’m sorry,” he whispered.

 

Keith pushed back abruptly. Now he was starting to feel stupid. “Fucking-” He was at a loss for words. He couldn’t tell if he was angry or humiliated or- He was on the verge of tears.

 

Shiro cradled Keith’s head in his large but gentle grasp, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones again. “Keith. You are…” Shiro searched for words, searched Keith's eyes. “You are stunning, Keith. But... I just... I can’t.”

 

Keith closed his eyes and let anger take over. “I see how it is. This whole thing? With us? I just needed a positive role model in my life. Is that it?!”

 

“Keith,” Shiro attempted to calm him down.

 

“I’ve been through the whole, ‘big brothers big sisters’ thing when I was in the foster homes. Some douche bag would take me out once a week to play catch in the park, shoot the shit, make sure I’m not doing drugs. But they didn’t invite me to their place, they didn’t bring fucking soup over when I was sick, they didn’t introduce me to all their fucking friends. They didn’t look at me the way you do.”

 

“Keith…”

 

“No. I get it.” Keith got up and out of the sim on Shiro’s side. “I’m just a charity project for you. You feel bad for me and want to make sure I stay out of trouble...” Shiro reached for Keith’s hand but Keith pulled away. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

 

“Keith, please…”

 

“No, I’m done.” Keith recalled Shiro’s excuse in the restaurant for why girls always thought he was flirting with them. “You were just being nice... and I... misinterpreted.” Keith turned and dashed through the bar, fighting back tears, ignoring Shiro calling behind him. He rushed past the crowd of Shiro’s friends at the bar and Medina grabbed him.

 

“Prodigy, you leaving?” he slurred.

 

“Yeah, I forgot to do something, um. Happy birthday, thanks for the drinks earlier.” Moore and Woolf gave him concerned looks but Keith took off before they could ask him anything. He pushed the door open, cold air comforting him for once, and waved good-bye to Jocko.

 

Keith’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Shiro. He ignored it and walked to a further bus stop so he wouldn’t be near the bar in case Shiro looked for him. Once he was a few blocks away he let the tears stream down his cheeks. His phone buzzed again; Shiro was calling. Keith ignored it. It buzzed with two more text messages.

 

“Fuck!” he yelled at his phone and turned it off as he waited in the dark. Chest heaving. A panicky and empty feeling overwhelming him. He was so stupid to think that Shiro was treating him any differently than anyone else.

 

He was grateful for the upcoming week off between the spring and summer quarters. He wanted to lie in bed for a week and not leave his room. He tried to slow his breathing down. He could do this. He’d been alone up until this point at the Garrison. Things would just... go back to normal... before Shiro crashed into his life. He gave up waiting for the bus and decided that a long walk home in the dark would be good.

 

\-----

 

Keith woke up the next day to the sound of someone knocking on his door. He didn't want to get out of bed but he was relieved when he heard Celine’s voice, “Keith? You there?”

 

“Hang on,” he called as he threw on pajama pants and a tee.

 

Celine immediately walked in when he opened the door. “I called like three times, you OK? You look like shit, are you sick again?”

 

“No…”

 

“Well, I called this morning to see how it went last night. You didn't answer and then I got concerned because you weren't responding to anything.”

 

“I turned off my phone.”

 

“It's four P.M… Keith?”

 

Her voice barely registered. “I need to lie down.” He shuffled back to bed.

 

“Keith, what happened?”

 

“I got rejected. I don't want to talk about it.” He fought tears back. _Ugh, not again_.

 

“Oh, Keith. I'm sorry. That really surprises me. When he came by last week, he just looked at you like-”

 

“Like everyone else…” Keith interrupted.

 

“What did he say? Did he flat out say ‘no’?”

 

“He had a bunch of reasons why we can't be together. He just said, ‘I can’t.’ I'm more pissed at myself for getting my hopes up, that he would actually maybe want to, at the very least, kiss me.”

 

“I don't know, I wouldn't call that rejection. You said no one knows he's gay, right?

 

“Bi.”

 

“Whatever. And, he's a prominent officer. And you're technically a minor. There's a lot coming into play here.”

 

“Whatever, final answer is still no.” Keith got up from his bed and pulled his phone off the charger. “I need you to do me a favor. Power up my phone and delete all of his texts. I don’t want to read them.”

 

Celine took the phone. “Shit, you have five voicemails, two are from me, though. And there's twelve texts. From him.”

 

“Delete them.” Keith lay back on the bed and pressed his fingers into his eyes until he saw stars.

 

“Are you sure?” Celine questioned as she read through them.

 

“He doesn't profess his love in any of them, right?”

 

“No, but: ‘can we talk’, ‘please pick up your phone’, ‘can I come by’...” Celine read off a few texts.

 

“Not good enough. Delete.”

 

“OK... this one says-”

 

“Delete it. Please, Celine,” Keith pleaded.

 

“OK...” She raised her eyebrows as she tapped away at his phone. “Um, my parents are in town a few days for the break. Wanna come to dinner with us?”

 

“No... Thanks though.”

 

“Ok. I'll call you tomorrow. Please don't stay inside and brood in the dark for the whole break listening to Lana Del Rey. OK?”

 

“I can't make any promises.” Keith managed a tired smile.

 

Celine gave Keith a pained look and set the phone on his pillow, screen still illuminated, and quietly closed the door.

 

Keith looked over to turn the phone off but saw one message that Celine left opened on his phone.

 

Shiro: I've made a huge mistake. Please, I need to see you.

 

Keith felt the familiar sting of tears pricking his eyes. He reread the message and then deleted it. Best not to get his hopes up again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :( Keith...
> 
>    
> [Fan art](https://twitter.com/cryopcds/status/998933818009677824) of The Kiss!!! Commissioned by avidbeader, art by @cryopcds ( [@goodtohaveyouback](https://goodtohaveyouback.tumblr.com/) on tumblr) It's gorgeous, you have to check it out!


	13. What the boy of my dreams tastes like: Part 1

Later Sunday night, Keith was startled by another knock on his door. He remained silent and listened; Celine had announced herself earlier…

 

“Keith?” It was Shiro.

 

Keith’s body stilled but his heart raced.

 

Shiro sighed. “Keith, please… can you just talk to me for a second?” There was a slight thud on the door; it sounded like Shiro had rested his head on it. “Keith... I’m sorry... I definitely... have feelings for you but... you understand that it’s complicated, right? _Really_ complicated.”

 

_OK… ‘feelings’ were a start…_

 

“Can we _please_ talk?”

 

_I can hear you, shithead…_

 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t handle the situation well, last night. I'm sorry if I came off as dismissive or... I guess I was just taken off guard and surprised that you felt the same way, but-” Shiro sighed again. “I just don’t know what to do, Keith. I... I really don’t. I’ve… never dated another guy on campus. I’m not ready for people to know yet and I don’t want to be unfair to you. And on top of all that... we’re six years apart. _Six_ years! This isn’t a simple, ‘I like you, you like me’ type of situation… Can you at least acknowledge that?”

 

Keith closed his eyes and attempted to steady his breathing _. He likes me..._

 

“OK, I’m not going to just stand out here; conversations require two people’s input… so…” Long pause. “Will I see you on Thursday? I don’t know why I’m asking, you’re just going to ignore me...” His voice trailed off.

 

Keith wanted to give in but held fast, clenching his eyes, listening intently.

 

“OK… I guess we’ll talk later…”

 

Keith heard Shiro’s boots turn to leave and then spoke up. “I’ve thought about what you said,” Keith started, “and I recognize the position that this would put you in… But, did you think about what _I_ said?”

 

He heard Shiro move back towards the door. “I… I will… There's a lot for me to think about,” he said quietly. And then he walked away.

 

\-----

 

Keith did not hear from Shiro on Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday.

 

Keith got a little bored by Wednesday and decided he could use some vitamin D so he took a walk around campus. Faculty and officers had a half-day before the holiday and since most cadets went home or on vacation during the break, the campus was eerily silent. But isolation always felt comforting for Keith. Maybe because it was predictable.

 

\-----

 

Text from Celine on Thursday morning: You coming with me tonight or do I have to go by myself?

 

Keith: you should be fine without me, right?

 

Celine: Seriously?

Come the fuck on Keith

 

Keith: i dont know if i can handle seeing him

 

Celine: Maybe he’ll want to talk

 

Keith: he wants to talk

he wants to tell me more reasons why we can’t be together so that he doesn’t seem like the unreasonable one in all this

so he can feel better about himself

 

Celine: Stop being a bitch

 

Keith: i like being a bitch

 

Celine: lol. Stop pouting, come with me

 

Keith: we’ll see…

 

\-----

 

For some reason, for as long as Keith could remember, July Fourth always wound up being a stormy day, even in California. And now in Arizona. Scattered thunderstorms passed throughout the early afternoon and loomed for the rest of the evening. Keith vacillated between going to the party and staying home. Something drew him to Shiro that he couldn’t explain. Maybe seeing him again would help give him more answers. Maybe Shiro had taken time to think a little more, as well.

 

Celine knocked on Keith’s door at seven P.M. “So…?”

 

Keith opened the door. “I will go but I’m not staying long.”

 

Celine threw her arms around Keith. “Yay! Put on cute undies just in case.”

 

Keith shot her an embarrassed smile and shook his head.

 

\-----

 

They walked up to the familiar house. The last time Keith entered this door, Shiro had come up to him and stolen his heart with some charming, anecdotal stories and a simple phrase in Japanese.

 

It was supposed to be a backyard barbeque but the threatening weather had moved most people inside. Keith and Celine walked in and the older Woolf brother came dancing up, beer in hand, chanting, “Prodigy, Prodigy, Prodigy! What’s up, guys?!”

 

“Hey. Woolf, this is Celine. Celine this is Woolf, actually… I don’t know your first name. I don’t know any of your first names...”

 

Woolf laughed. “It’s Elliot, my brother is Neil. Pleased to meet you, Celine,” he said, shaking her hand.

 

Celine smiled and dropped her usual resting bitch face.

 

“How was Medina feeling on Sunday?” Keith inquired.

 

“Oh, man. Erikson and Shiro had to carry him home. I think he threw up three times. Then he started only speaking Spanish and none of us could understand him. He got so mad. It was hilarious. You had to... be there. Or it was funny because we were all wasted. Anyway, he’s fine, he’s got a fiesta con familia today so he’s not here.” Woolf looked around and waved down his brother. “Neil! Hey, have you met Prodigy?”

 

Celine's boy-of-interest walked up. “What the hell are you talking about? Who?”

 

“This is Keith, I’ve been calling him Prodigy because he’s giving Shiro a fucking run for his money,” Woolf said, patting Keith on the shoulder.

 

“Oh, yeah, I heard about the thing at the bar the other night! Wait, how did _you_ get into the bar? Elliot, why didn’t you bring me if you can get other underage people into the bar...”

 

“Because you don’t need to see me acting like a drunk idiot.”

 

“Too late for that….”

 

“Pff… Plus the door guy is BFF with Shiro and Shiro is BFF with Keith so… I don’t know… “

 

_BFF?_

 

Neil nodded. “Whatever, I see how it is, bro.” Then he turned to shake Keith’s hand, “Nice to meet you.”

 

“Yeah, you too. Graduated, right?” Keith asked.

 

“Yeah, finally. I’m so relieved.”

 

“Congratulations, you staying on as an officer?”

 

“No, I’ve already had a few interviews with Boeing so… I’m thinking private sector right now.”

 

“Wow, that’s awesome. I’m sure it pays better,” Keith offered.

 

“Yeah, you can definitely make money if you’re good enough. Sounds like you’re on your way if you’re already beating on Shiro. So, how do you know Shiro?”

 

Elliot also looked at Keith. “How _do_ you know Shiro?”

 

 _“_ Umm… It's a long story but, the first three times we ran into each other I thought he was going to beat the crap out of me. I'll leave it at that…”

 

“Hmm… I'm going to have to ask him for that story later…” Woolf narrowed his eyes but laughed. “ANYWAY, _this_ is Keith’s friend Celine…”

 

Neil smiled. “Hey, we met at that weekend engineering workshop, right?”

 

“Yeah, hi...again” Celine smiled, a little tongue-tied. _Oh jeez… she’s really into him._ They immediately fell into cute and shy small talk.

 

OK… Keith had done his part. He looked around and the older Woolf brother read his mind. “Oh, I think Shiro is out back on the porch. Everything cool? He seems a little off today.”

 

“Um, no idea.” Keith just shrugged like nothing was wrong. His heart rate picked up and he looked at Celine who nodded towards the back of the house, encouraging him to go find the boy that was driving him mad.

 

Keith walked towards the back of the house and opened the sliding door onto a covered porch packed with people. Overhead fans attempted to move the oddly humid air and Keith could see distant lightning in the sky.

 

He spotted Shiro; his height always made him easy to find. He was standing in a circle of people, chuckling at whatever story Erikson was animatedly telling. Shiro was wearing a black henley with a wide neck, a few buttons undone. Keith had never truly appreciated collarbones until meeting Shiro. He wasn’t drinking like the rest of the group and was distractedly looking at this phone, half paying attention to the conversation and… Keith bristled. _That’s the communications assistant._ Keith recognized the girl hanging on Shiro in a tight red and white-striped tank dress. _How patriotic... stripes and spandex._ Her blonde hair and cleavage stabbed Keith in the eyes. Keith had calmed down since Sunday but the anger came back full force. _Fuck this._

 

Shiro glanced up and looked over, making eye contact with Keith. His smile vanished immediately but Keith didn’t stay to give him any more time to react. Keith made sure Shiro could see him roll his eyes and then walked back into the house to leave.

 

“Keith!!”

 

_Nope, not staying. Fuck you. Enjoy your cleavage._

 

“Keith!!”

 

Keith signaled to Celine who nodded her understanding and he made his way out front into the thickening humidity, strange for the desert but perfect for a storm, electricity sparking through the clouds. Keith couldn’t think straight. His hands shook with fury as he searched for his cigarettes.

 

“Keith, wait,” Shiro called again from the front door; Keith was a few steps down the driveway.

 

Keith turned around and faced him. “No. I’m _fucking_ done! Sorry I if interrupted. You looked like you were having a good time...”

 

“Keith, please…” Shiro walked away from the front door and onto the driveway, keeping his distance.

 

“No, Shiro. I can’t fucking deal with this anymore. I thought I would come to see you again, see if you had time to think after all the shit from last weekend but you look perfectly happy with blondie hanging on you, so…”

 

Shiros snorted. “I _wish_ that was Debbie Harry,” he began, then realized his joke was failing to make light of the situation. He looked down at his phone in his hand.

 

“Fucking- ugh. I'm not joking, Shiro. I thought… like… one more shot or something. I don’t know, I don’t know why I can’t stay away from you but… I can't be _around_ you if I can't _be_ with you. And it looks like you’ve made your decision, so… I’m done.” Keith threw up his hands in exasperation.

 

“Keith, I’m not into her, she just... shows up, and,” Shiro glanced at his phone again.

 

“What the _fuck_ is going on with your phone!!?” Keith shouted.

 

Shiro’s voice dropped. “My grandmother... um, is in the hospital. Back home. My mom’s the health care proxy but she’s really overwhelmed by everything, so she’s… deferring everything to me. I’ve been on the verge of booking a flight to Japan for the past thirty-six hours, I’m fielding questions from family in the States, I’m like the liaison right now.  I’m waiting for the doctors to get back to me, they’re doing a repeat head scan to see if the bleed is stable. She had a hemorrhagic stroke. So, I’m sorry, I know it’s not an excuse, I just don’t want to miss their call,” Shiro quietly explained.

 

“I’m sorry,” Keith whispered, partly feeling like an asshole but partly annoyed that Shiro had flipped this thing, making Keith feel guilty.

 

“I thought about what you said, though...You’re right. I’m more worried about being the person people want me to be or expect me to be and I’m worried about what others will think and how that will affect my success. It’s making my life more difficult. And now it’s hurting me... and the people I care about.” Shiro tentatively approached Keith as if he were a feral animal that might bolt if he made any sudden moves.

 

Keith wasn’t buying it. “Like who? Who do you _actually_ care about? Besides yourself and your ‘image’?”

 

“...You, Keith. I care about you…” Shiro exhaled, his facial expression pained.

 

Tears welled up in Keith’s eyes. “I don’t know, Shiro…”

 

“I'm serious, Keith, I want to be true to myself. I want to let myself be happy. And I want to be the one that makes _you_ happy, I....” Shiro’s phone rang. “I'm… _so_ sorry, I need to take this...” Shiro answered his phone. “Hai, Shirogane desu…”

 

Shiro paced away from Keith along the garage and towards the side yard, speaking in Japanese. Keith was mulling over what he just heard Shiro say. ‘ _I want to be the one that makes you happy...’_

 

Keith heard the front door open. He looked over his shoulder and saw blonde hair and curves. Alexis? Was that what Shiro’s friends said her name was?

 

“Is everything OK?” she chirped.

 

Keith shrugged as he took out a cigarette. He watched her as she looked over at Shiro pacing while on the phone.

 

“What's going on?” Alexis continued her eloquent interrogation.

 

“If you don't know, then it’s none of your business,” Keith answered, looking away from her. He contemplated not lighting the cigarette. He was stressed but Shiro seemed a bit disgusted whenever he smoked.

 

“Are you... Keith?”

 

He met her eyes and nodded. She shifted her gaze back to Shiro and then looked between him and Shiro a few times while Shiro's Japanese filled the background. Her eyes widened. A shocked look of realization came over her face. “Oh.” Her mouth remained open, contemplating some more. “I see…” Keith raised an eyebrow at her while she stood frozen. “Sorry, I’ll... leave you two alone…” She turned and walked back into the house stiffly.

 

Shiro shot Keith a questioning look as he watched her walk back inside and finished his phone call. “Hai, hai… Arigatou gozaimashita. Hai… Osoreirimasu.” Shiro looked relieved.

 

“Good news?” Keith almost whispered, staring back at the pavement.

 

“The scan was stable and she's more alert this morning, they're going to try to extubate her later today. They’re going to call again once they do.”

 

“That's good.” Keith offered a quiet smile.

 

Shiro let out a tired exhale. “What was that about?” he inquired, nodding his head at the front door.

 

“She was looking for you. I think she was trying to intimidate me with her cleavage,” Keith deadpanned, putting his cigarette away.

 

Shiro snorted. “You're funny.”

 

“You're the only person that thinks I'm funny.”

 

Shiro smiled. “Will you come here, please?”

 

Keith hesitated, still wary of where they had left off.

 

“I won't bite...unless you want me to,” Shiro smirked.

 

Keith fought back a smile. “I knew you were a kink.” A slight rain had started. Shiro stood under the garage door overhang but Keith was still a few steps down the driveway.

 

“Keith, will you come here and get out of the rain?” Keith obeyed and slowly approached as Shiro continued. “I really like you, I really want to be with you, but there’s just a few caveats. I need to come to terms with other people knowing about my sexual preferences on my own time, if that's OK with you. So, I don't want you to feel like I'm hiding you or anything. Although, it's probably a good idea to keep this quiet until you turn eighteen.” Shiro studied Keith’s eyes. “Also, I need you to communicate with me, I can't read your mind and you can’t give me the silent treatment whenever you get pissed. OK? And…” Shiro hesitated for the last part. “I don’t know what your… experience is so, I need you to take the reins. I need you to tell me what to do, tell me what you want... I don’t want to feel like the old guy taking advantage. I need you to tell me what you’re comfortable with doing… Did any of that make sense? Am I rambling?”

 

Keiths breathing was shallow as his brain registered what Shiro had just spelled out. “So, you like me, like want to be with me, and we do whatever _I want_?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Let's go back to your place.”

 

“OK…” Shiro smiled. “Will you come here first though? I want to kiss you.”

 

“I already tried a couple times but you weren't having it. Plus you just said _I’m_ in charge here...” Keith fell into their usual banter.

 

“Get your ass over here.”

 

Keith tried to tone down the stupid grin on his face as he closed their distance. Shiro cupped his hands on either side of Keith's head, cradling his jaw and tipping his head up.

 

Shiro smiled into their kiss. It was the same soft, open-mouthed kiss they'd left off with. It was slow and sweet and… perfect. Shiro paused to inhale and dipped his head down again into Keith’s lips, fingertips pressing into the base of Keith’s skull as he deepened their next kiss. Keith breathed him in as he let himself melt into Shiro’s warmth, placing his hands on Shiro’s chest, lips dragging and lingering, becoming more slick with saliva. Keith flicked his tongue into Shiro’s and received a slight moan in return. Shiro's tongue met his on the next kiss and languidly curled along Keith’s sending a shiver along Keith’s spine.

 

Keith exhaled shakily.  _I can’t believe this is happening._

 

“Come on,” Shiro whispered between kisses. “Let's get out of here.”

 

Keith smiled and nodded his head. Shiro rested his forehead against Keith’s and ran his hands from Keith's head, along his arms, and to his hands to pull him away from the house. Fireworks went off in the distance as the drizzle faded; Shiro and Keith walked away from the party, hand in hand back toward campus.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I ruined anyone’s day with the ending to the prior chapter. I’ll make it up to you, I promise ;)   Part 2 on the way…
> 
> Also feel free to correct my Japanese, I don’t know why that language has a million ways to say thank you.
> 
> AND thank you thank you for all the love <3


	14. What the boy of my dreams tastes like: Part 2

They walked into Shiro’s apartment and Keith was instantly grateful for the lack of humidity. He could feel a subtle, wet saturation in his shirt from the air outside. Shiro slipped his shoes off and made his way to the kitchen. “You want anything?” Shiro called, searching his fridge.

 

Keith pulled off his shoes and then stood in the kitchen. He met Shiro’s eyes as Shiro peeked over the refrigerator door when he didn’t hear an answer. “I want you. In there,” Keith said, pointing to the bedroom.

 

Shiro raised both eyebrows, eyes following Keith’s finger. “Um…” he looked like he was trying to downplay a huge smile. “OK…” He closed the fridge and followed Keith into his bedroom, flipping the light on.

 

Shiro’s bedroom was similar to the living area: simple, clean, minimalist. Keith sat on the edge of the bed, a little nervous and unclear about the direction he was taking. He leaned back, holding himself up with his arms behind him, feet still on the floor. “Take your shirt off.”

 

Shiro smiled. “Demanding…”

 

“I’ve been thinking about this since the first time I saw you,” Keith replied with a smirk.

 

Shiro maintained eye contact as he pulled his black henley over his head.

 

 _Holy shit._ “How are you even real?” Keith whispered. Shiro was pure sex and pectorals. And no Photoshop in sight, just contoured mounds of muscle separated by hard lines.

 

Shiro smiled again, breaking eye contact and modestly looking at the floor. He looked back up and took a few steps towards Keith and ran his hand over the shaved stubble at the back of his head.

 

“Pants... while you’re at it,” Keith directed, looking at Shiro through his dark lashes.

 

Shiro unbuckled his belt and pulled it very deliberately out of his belt loops. He tossed it aside and unbuttoned his jeans. He let them drop to the floor and Keith’s cock twitched at the sight of Shiro, already half erect in his tight black boxer briefs. “Fuck... Shiro…” Keith’s confidence faltered as he felt his boldness slipping. His experience was limited to a few rushed and sloppy hand jobs with some of the random boys at the last foster home he lived in before starting at the Garrison.

 

Shiro took one last step forward to the bed and dropped to his knees in front of Keith, placing one hand on either side of Keith’s hips. Keith felt the bed yield with Shiro's weight as he leaned forward into Keith. “What do you want me to do now?” Shiro asked, voice a little darker than normal, lips hovering over Keith’s neck.

 

Keith let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Uh, I didn’t think that far ahead...” Keith swallowed as Shiro’s lips lightly ghosted up just behind his jawline. “What… do you want to do?”

 

Shiro nipped at Keith’s earlobe. “I thought I put _you_ in charge,” he whispered and continued to kiss behind Keith’s ear. Keith tried to suppress the breathy moans that left his throat. This was so fucking hot but he couldn’t figure out what to do, where to start.

 

“Not... able to say coherent things... right now…” Keith managed, leaning into Shiro’s mouth and feeling Shiro smile against his neck.

 

“OK.” Shiro returned to center to look Keith in the eye before dragging his lustful eyes up and down Keith’s still-clothed body. He leaned in further but hovered his lips again, just out of reach of Keith’s. “I want to find out what the boy of my dreams tastes like. Is that OK with you?”

 

Processing… Processing… “You’ve kissed me a few times now, you know what I...oh…” _OH._ “My brain just stopped working. Oh god…”

 

Shiro laughed and cupped a hand around the back of Keith’s head. “Too much?”

 

“No, no. I just...No that sounds really… um, good. Did I already ask if you’re real?” Keith laughed off his embarrassment.

 

“Mmmhhh,” Shiro affirmed as he smiled and kissed Keith.

 

\-----

 

“Wait. ‘I want to know what the boy of my dreams tastes like’?… I said that?” The Castle of Lions hummed in the background.

 

Keith laughed into his Nunvill. “Yeah, it was pretty fucking smooth.” They had moved from the common area to the kitchen and had dug up some of Coran’s ‘nectar of the gods/hair tonic.’ Keith laughed again at Shiro’s blush as he covered his mouth. Keith remembered every detail of their time together. He wasn’t sure if he was aiding Shiro in digging up memories or if he was supplying new ones to help him put the puzzle of his past life back together. At least now he knew…

 

\-----

 

Shiro moved his hand from Keith’s head to his hip, fingers ghosting under the hem of Keith’s tee, teasing his sensitive skin, summoning goosebumps. “Can I take this off?” Shiro whispered, breaking their kiss.

 

Keith nodded and then shivered again as Shiro slowly lifted Keith’s shirt off of him. Shiro tossed the shirt over his shoulder before running his hands down Keith’s torso to grip his waist.

 

“God, look at you,” Shiro admired Keith’s lean figure, resuming their kiss.

 

“Look who's talking,” Keith laughed into the kiss before licking into Shiro's mouth.

 

Shiro ran his hands further down to the waistband of Keith’s jeans and hooked a finger underneath. Keith held his breath as Shiro ran his finger towards the front to the button fly, tugging Keith's hips forward slightly. “Can I take _these_ off?”

 

Keith nodded dumbly. “Yeah…” He shifted his weight so Shiro could pull the pants off his hips and down his legs. Desire pooled thicker within Keith’s gut. At least Keith had taken Celine’s advice and had worn his cute red trunks.

 

Shiro ran his hands up Keith’s thighs and then dipped down to kiss up his inner right. Keith’s cock throbbed and his eyes rolled back in his head. He didn’t know how long he could actually last… this could be embarrassingly short. Whatever, Shiro knew he’d been crushing on him for a few months at this point **.** Keith felt a bead of precum soak through his underwear.

 

Shiro played with the elastic waistband while he grazed his teeth over Keith's length through his underwear. Keith snapped his head back, mouth open, unable to make any sound. Shiro moaned his approval while he mouthed at Keith's erection. “Mmm, is this for me? You're already wet?” The heat of his breath saturated the fabric that barely contained Keith's hard-on. Keith couldn't close his mouth nor open his eyes. His brain finally communicated with his eyelids and Keith fluttered his eyes open, meeting Shiro’s dark gaze as he looked up at him from between his legs. “Can I take _these_ off?” Shiro hooked his middle finger and tugged at the hem of Keith’s underwear at his inner thigh, fingernail briefly grazing his scrotum.

 

Keith jumped. “God... Shiro... Yeah…” Keith breathed out, shifting his hips off the bed while Shiro peeled off his undergarment.

 

Shiro straightened his spine to kiss Keith on the mouth. “Relax, OK?”

 

“OK,” Keith exhaled. The heat of Shiro’s breath left Keith’s mouth as he dipped back down between Keith’s thighs.

 

Keith’s cock leaked more precum as Shiro grabbed hold of both of his legs and spread them wider, obscenely exposing all for Shiro to worship. Shiro licked up the underside of Keith’s cock with one lustful broad stroke of his tongue. “You look so fucking pretty like this,” he said against the head of Keith’s cock before sucking the rest of the precum off of it.

 

“God...” Keith moaned. “Fuck, Shiro. Sorry,” he laughed, “that’s all I can say right now.”

 

Shiro smiled and teased the head of his erection lightly with his thumb as he kissed along the base. “You smell so fucking good, Keith.” He ghosted his teeth lightly across Keith’s balls, sending another shiver up Keith’s spine, and then dragged his lower lip up Keith’s cock again, placing a soft kiss on the head.

 

Keith was going to die. Yep, Shiro was going to kill him with sex and his _fucking_ mouth.

 

Shiro took Keith’s head in his mouth, hand lightly holding his base, while he slowly lowered down to take all of Keith in. Keith tried to remember to breathe. Realizing he was still alive and able to move, he put his hand on Shiro’s head and ran his fingers through his hair. Shiro pulled his mouth back up Keith’s cock, pulled away and moved to kiss Keith’s hand that had just been in his hair. He nipped at Keith’s wrist, giving him the most playfully sexy look Keith had ever seen on any human being, and dove back onto Keith’s erection. Engulfing, bobbing, increasing in speed. Shiro sucked Keith’s cock like this was his favorite thing to do.

 

Keith moaned, no longer able to hold back the sounds his body wanted him to make. Keith felt Shiro’s broad tongue circle along the underside of his cock each time before driving his hot, wet mouth back down. Shiro looked back up at Keith, removing his slick mouth for a brief moment, “You OK?”

 

Keith nodded dumbly.

 

Shiro groaned, “...Making me so fucking hard…” He dove back down and Keith could feel his erection hit the back of Shiro’s throat.

 

Keith whined, “I’m going to come if you keep talking like that.”

 

Shiro’s mouth left his cock again. “You close?”

 

“Ah… maybe… shit.”

 

“I wanna come with you, OK?” Shiro breathed, hot air circling Keith’s dripping wet cock.

 

“Oh, god. OK...” Keith tried to look, but Shiro’s stupid muscles were in the way so he watched as Shiro's arm moved to pull his erection out of his boxer briefs. He moaned around Keith’s cock while touching himself. The moan reverberated through every muscle fiber in Keith’s body and made him whimper. “Shiro...”

 

Shiro’s head bobbed faster, lips sealing tighter around Keith’s length, deltoid flexing as he worked his own erection. Shiro moaned again, the vibration tempting the floodgates of Keith’s orgasm. Keith’s fingers ran over the soft shaved sides of Shiro’s scalp, willing himself to hold out, just a little longer. “Shiro, I’m so fucking close…” he whispered into a sob. Heat pooled and intensified, uncurling from the depths of his groin.

 

Shiro’s tongue and saliva and throat and everything became too much. Keith couldn’t help bucking his hips into Shiro’s skull for the final 3...2...1. “Huhhnnghh,” Keith moaned unintelligibly as the first wave of his orgasm shot semen into Shiro’s wet mouth. His hips rose up with the second wave as Shiro swallowed around his head. He curled and collapsed forward into the third wave.

 

“Keith,” Shiro sighed as his removed his blissful mouth and dug his teeth into Keith’s inner thigh. Shiro’s breath caught and he made a sound that was a half-moan, half-whimper as he came into his hand. _Holy fuck, that’s a sound to remember_. Shiro exhaled deeply into Keith’s skin as he convulsed from the aftershocks of his climax. He rolled his head to the side and looked up at Keith again and smiled. “I’m a fucking mess,” he laughed.

 

Keith giggled. “Did that just actually happen?”

 

Shiro nodded and bit into his leg hard.

 

“Augh!!” Keith squawked.

 

Shiro straightened his spine and looked at both of his hands, slick and sticky with come. “I need to sort myself, hang on.” He got up from his knees and walked out of the room, opening the door with his foot, trying not to touch anything. Keith tried to wipe away the silly grin on his face. He slowed his breathing as he relaxed his core and fell back onto the bed, sprawling horizontally down the center.

 

Shiro returned after a few minutes, drinking a glass of water, holding a second glass and a towel for Keith. “Thanks,” Keith muttered. Shiro’s underwear was back on and Keith pouted that he actually didn’t see Shiro's cock through this entire event. Shiro took Keith’s glass and set it aside as he turned off the light.

 

“Move,” Shiro demanded and hauled Keith into his arms as if he weighed no more than a pillow and tossed him to one side of the bed. Keith laughed as he bounced and felt Shiro climb into bed behind him, wrapping a heavy arm around his waist, burying his head in Keith’s neck. Keith actually wasted brain energy contemplating which was the better revelation from this evening: the fact that Shiro sucked him off like a porn star or the fact that Shiro liked to cuddle. Keith could not fathom a time where he was more content than in this very moment. Shiro’s voice finally brought Keith out of his post-sex daze. “What do you like to eat for breakfast?”

 

Keith smiled; his face actually hurt from smiling so much. “You're making breakfast tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah. Pancakes or omelettes...”

 

“Are your pancakes going to be some sort of paleo-protein concoction?”

 

Shiro chuckled. “It’s like a mix with flax seed-”

 

“Enough said, oh my god. Omelettes.”

 

Shiro laughed into Keith’s hair.

 

“So that means I get to sleep over?” Keith whispered in the dark.

 

“Yeah, that OK with you?”

 

“More than OK.” Keith smiled, fighting to keep his eyes open despite his excitement. Shiro ran his fingers along Keith’s ribs and kissed his shoulder while Keith slowly drifted into sleep.

 

\-----

 

Keith stirred as sunlight hit his eyelids. He spread out in the strange bed that was bigger than the standard issue dorm bed he was used to. He lazily rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty. His eyes snapped open and he looked around with no sign of Shiro. His senses fully came to as he began to smell freshly brewed coffee and toast… He buried his head in Shiro’s pillow and smiled at the thought of waking up to Shiro making breakfast. This boy was seriously going to be the best boyfriend ever. Not that Keith had history to compare him to. But still. He also heard music coming from the kitchen; it sounded actually fairly modern and upbeat. Apparently Shiro didn’t listen to old music 24/7.

 

Keith sat up and stretched. He then ran his fingers through his hair making sure he didn’t look like a complete disaster. He found his phone on the floor, dead, and then searched for his shirt and underwear. Keith made his way out into the hallway and stopped against the wall as he peered into the kitchen. He smiled as he watched Shiro, chopping ingredients for omelettes in his underwear, hair damp from a recent shower. Keith had never heard the song Shiro was listening to, but the lyrics made Keith smile. Was this possibly Shiro’s upbeat, morning-after-sex playlist??

 

_The timing is right, the stars are aligned_

_So save that heart for me_

_‘Cause girl you know that you’re my destiny_

_Swear to the moon, the stars, the sons, and the daughters_

_Our love is deeper than the oceans of water_

 

Shiro popped a few pepper slices into his mouth and looked over at Keith. “Oh, hey! I was wondering when you were going to wake up.”

 

“Morning.” Keith smiled sleepily. “How long have you been up?”

 

“I always wake up at 5:30 to work out.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Yeah, I just went for a run this morning, though. Nothing much.”

 

“You are insane.”

 

“Whatever. Coffee’s ready, grab some toast if you want. What do you want in your omelette?”

 

“Anything but onions.” Keith grabbed some coffee and sat in his usual bar stool, admiring the view as Shiro expertly chopped veggies. “Those knives are pretty fucking badass. Japanese, I’m assuming?”

 

“Of course, only the best...” Shiro joked, handing a clean santoku blade over for Keith to look at. Keith laughed to himself as he ran his thumb over the blade and looked at the Japanese characters imprinted on the steel. “There’s that one scene in _Kill Bill_ where Uma Thurman is at that sushi bar trying to find Hattori Hanzo.”

 

“Oh yeah, she goes, ‘I have vermin to kill.’”

 

“Well, yeah, but the best line is: ‘I need Japanese steel.’” Keith eyed Shiro with a sexy smirk.

 

Shiro cocked an eyebrow and his chopping slowed. “Do you now?” Shiro dropped his knife and walked around to crowd Keith against the island.

 

He leaned in to kiss Keith but Keith groaned. “Mmgh, I have morning breath.”

 

“I like your morning breath.” He greedily ran his hands up Keith’s sides underneath his shirt.

 

“Ew, no you don’t.” Keith squirmed and giggled, so Shiro planted a peck on his cheek instead. “You also need to put on clothes, I can’t focus on _anything_ with you... looking like that.”

 

Shiro smiled and stood down, circling back to the other side of the island. “Did you sleep ok? I didn't elbow you or anything did I?”

 

“I tossed a bit after the first hour or so. I'm not used to someone else sleeping in the same bed. I'll get over it, though” Keith grinned.

 

Shiro nodded. “Any plans the rest of the break?”

 

“Nothing much…”

 

“I was thinking, I need to stop into the office for a bit and work on a couple things while it's quiet. I can drop you off at your place and then maybe I can take you out to dinner tonight.”

 

Keith couldn't stop smiling. “Like a...date?”

 

Shiro grinned and nodded.

 

“I’m fine with hanging here tonight. We can just get take-out.”

 

“OK… up to you. You sure you don’t want to go somewhere?”

 

‘Yeah. I’d rather stay in and make out with you on the couch.”

 

Shiro blushed. “OK, think of a movie you want to watch, then.”

 

“Watch.” Keith held up his fingers in quotation marks.

 

Shiro chuckled while he scrambled eggs. “You can't make out for an entire two-hour movie...”

 

“Watch me,” Keith challenged with a smug grin.

 

Shiro finished plating Keith’s omelette before starting his own. “When _is_ your birthday, by the way?”

 

“The fourteenth.”

 

“Oh, that's next weekend.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“OK… we’ll definitely go out then...” Shiro was planning something.

 

“Did you hear any more from the hospital?”

 

“Yes. She's doing well, she'll need rehab probably. But, much better situation than the past few days.”

 

“That's good, I'm glad.” Keith smiled at the fact that Shiro was so involved with his family. It was endearing. It was also something Keith never had to think about.

 

Shiro plated his omelette, prepared a cup of matcha, and sat on the stool next to Keith to eat. “You need hot sauce or anything?”

 

“No, it's really good. Thanks. Way better than the breakfast at the cafeteria.” Keith looked at Shiro’s tea. “You just made coffee for me? You're not having any?”

 

“Nah, it’s all yours... you said you prefer coffee, right?”

 

“Did I already ask if you're real?”

 

Shiro barked a laugh. “Yeah, like five times last night…”

 

“My brain is having a hard time comprehending all this.” Keith shivered as he thought about last night. “So, if we're doing take-out and a movie tonight... do I get to sleep over again?” Keith asked nudging Shiro's ankle with his toe.

 

“Yeah, if you want. You're not sick of me yet?”

 

“Not possible.” 

 

“Well, other than the stuff I want to take care of today, I'm totally open this weekend. Remember to grab your sword when I pick you up, maybe we can find somewhere to practice tomorrow.”

 

“OK,” Keith couldn't suppress the enormous smile on his face; this could potentially be the best weekend ever… “Hey, what was that song playing when I walked in? It’s stuck in my head.”

 

“System, replay BØRNS.”

  
_Past lives couldn't ever hold me down_ _  
_ _Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found_ _  
_ _I've got the strangest feeling_   
This isn't our first time around...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow!! I didn’t know if I could write a sex scene, i've never done that before. 
> 
> As for the BORNS song, I listened to his stuff a decent amount when he came out and then hadn't listened in a while. “Past lives” appeared in my spotify discover weekly while I was writing this chapter and it felt so perfect…
> 
> So...what movie should Keith and Shiro watch? I need ideas.


	15. Friday night became "movie" night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now another word from Shiro and omg, i originally started this fic for the plot ideas i had circulating in my head and for the challenge of leading up to writing pornographic-ish material. didn’t think i had this much fluff in me… *sigh* If you’re only here for plot and/or fluff then only read the first 2/3 of this chapter...
> 
> I seriously LOVED everyone’s movie ideas but i went with top gun because of the subject matter (pilots!) and it helped me lead into something that I wanted to address anyway.
> 
> And again, I acknowledge that voltron is in the future so all these films (and music) would be super old by then but I can’t predict pop culture in 30-ish years.

Shiro smiled at Keith as he turned and walked into his dormitory. He felt bad about not being able to kiss him good-bye, but this was part of the deal right now. Until Shiro could figure out… who knows. Shiro always bit off more than he could chew.

 

He parked and headed into the aeronautics building and up to the fourth floor. Flipping the lights on in the dark office, he walked over to his desk. There was certain information that could only be accessed by the onsite desktops. The addendum period for submitted Kerberos proposals was coming to a close this weekend; Shiro was contemplating resubmitting but in the process realized that something didn't sit well with him.

 

He pulled up the “Kerberos III” mission announcement and the call for applications memo; he reread them even though he had them memorized. Something was bothering him; something was missing. He decided to review the prior announcements for the last two cancelled Kerberos missions but received a message saying his IP address was temporarily blocked from accessing the requested information… Files concerning Kerberos were probably considered sensitive information right now while they planned the third mission. Administrative staff for the mission would be announced on Monday as well as the press secretaries for each department to handle the media.

 

Shiro ran his hands through his hair and thought. He put in his earbuds and played Black Sabbath. It seemed counterintuitive, but Ozzy always helped him think. He drummed his fingers on the desk and looked up at the ceiling. Keith immediately flashed into his head. The way his mouth hung open, his pale neck exposed when he threw his head back, the blissful sounds he made. Had that been his first blow job? Shiro felt a flutter along his spine. _Not right now..._

 

To be honest, he was a little mad at himself; he should have started slower, he had wanted to move slow with Keith. Oral sex should not have been the first move… But Shiro also found it difficult to control the pent-up sexual tension from the past three months. Keith told him to be selfish, right? And he couldn't put into words how smitten he was with this boy… so he had showed him instead. _OK, just cuddling on the couch tonight..._

 

 _Anyway, task at hand. Access to prior mission documents… Focus_.

 

The archives.

 

Shiro checked a few work emails before logging out and heading into the basement where hard copies of important documents were kept if the Garrison servers were ever compromised. He combed through a few aisles before finding printed copies of Kerberos missions I and II announcements and proposals. He read through the detailed outlines of staffing, budgets, timelines... Wait. The budgets were significantly higher than Kerberos III. Shiro located the federal grants in another aisle and confirmed the monetary differences. Shiro had proposed the most fuel-efficient route he could possibly fathom for his proposal… so that wasn’t an issue. But he still had a strange, nagging feeling.

 

Next he reviewed the staffing which was also less than the prior proposed missions, but not enough to make up for the significant difference in budget. They’d also be placing fewer probes near Pluto than previously planned; but the money still didn’t add up. Shiro pulled out the Kerberos III outline hard copy and compared it to the the prior two. He breath caught as he spotted the glaring difference. _How did I not notice this before?_ There was no rescue and extraction crew or ship on standby for Kerberos III. The Garrison would save billions by not training and paying a standby crew in addition to maintenance of a second ship. Not to mention the cost of its fuel…

 

This was _not_ Garrison protocol. Safety and human lives remained paramount despite any barriers or “inefficiencies”.

 

Shiro returned to his desk and updated a few minor details in his proposal but remained largely distracted by the obtrusive... flaw? Oversight? After a few hours and several Sabbath albums later, he submitted the revisions, even though it wouldn't make a difference. But he was a perfectionist.

 

Maybe there’d be a way to add a standby crew later… Maybe there was a loophole and the Garrison had worked the standby crew into a different budget. Shiro held his head in his hands and let the tension in his chest out with a few exhales. More to worry about. More to think about… Sometimes he got tired of thinking.

 

\-----

 

Shiro revved his engine a couple times outside of the dorms before grabbing his phone to text Keith. He spotted Keith even before he pressed send on his text. He smiled at his gorgeous, gorgeous boy. Shiro appreciated the simplicity of Keith’s wardrobe. Black, grey, or dark red tee. Grey or black jeans. Why mess with something that looked effortlessly good on him?

 

“I can hear the engine from my room, I was already packed,” Keith said as he took his helmet from Shiro

 

“Grabbed your toothbrush?”

 

Keith laughed. “Yes.”

 

“We should pick up our food on the way back; every time I have it delivered they get lost within the Garrison compound. You don't mind riding into town, do you?”

 

“Nope, cool with me.”

 

“OK. Does Thai work for you?”

 

Silence.

 

“Keith, please don't tell me you've never had Thai food before.”

 

“‘Kay, I won't then.”

 

“Do we need to get you Chinese?”

 

Keith hesitated. “I'll try Thai…”

 

“It's like...tropical Chinese.”

 

“Whatever... let's get tropical Chinese…”

 

Shiro laughed. “If you don't like it, I will run out and get you whatever food you want.”

 

\-----

 

Keith stood staring at the paper menu while Shiro tapped his fingers at the counter, waiting, ready to order. “OK, let’s make this easy,” Shiro facilitated, “spicy or not.”

 

“Not spicy,” Keith answered.

 

“Hmmm... that surprises me. OK... rice or noodles.”

 

“Uh, noodles.”

 

“OK, thick or thin.”

 

Keith looked up at Shiro with one eyebrow quirked. “I don’t know, I didn’t get to see much last night.”

 

 _Oh my god._ “Keith. Food. Focus, come on,” Shiro smiled, acting like he was annoyed with Keith’s sexual innuendo. “The noodles are flat, you can get wide ones or thin ones that look like linguini…”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“You’re not helping. OK… do you like peanuts?”

 

“Meh.”

 

“OK, I’m getting you pad se ew,” Shiro decided.

 

“I have no idea what you just said.”

 

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” Shiro laughed. He ordered his usual drunken noodles with tofu and for Keith, pad se ew with chicken.

 

They exited with their takeout and Keith gestured to the Asian market that Shiro frequented across the street. _Oh, the infamous kimchi..._

 

“We should get sake.” Keith looked up at Shiro again with a big smile.

 

Shiro looked down and furrowed his brow. “You’re getting expensive,” he joked.

 

“Dude, it’s Friday, you have all weekend to be productive…” was Keith’s justification.

 

Shiro sighed as he gave in. Keith _was_ his weakness.

 

\-----

 

Shiro piled the bags on his kitchen island and Keith went straight for the couch, leaving his bag of overnight stuff at the door. Keith was obviously the messy one in the relationship(?). “What are we watching?” Keith called towards the kitchen.

 

“I thought I put you in charge of that.”

 

Keith laughed. “I’m bad at being in charge. You’re the responsible one. I at least need a category to start with; I can’t just pull a movie out of my ass... Like, I’m assuming you don’t want to watch a terrible B horror flick right?”

 

“Yeah... no.”

 

“OK, so give me something to work with, here.”

 

Shiro thought, “Hmmm...Moore has a bunch of pirated stuff on a cloud we all share. I’ll pull it up and you can browse through that, or we can just rent a movie online if we want something newer.” Shiro picked up the tablet off his kitchen island, walked over and handed it to Keith.

 

“OK…there’s some good older stuff on here. _Fight Club_ ? Ooh, _Boogie Nights_ ... Mark Wahlberg?” Keith cocked an eyebrow as he looked over to Shiro from the couch. Shiro just laughed and shook his head. “OK… no Mark Wahlberg… _The Shawshank Redemption_ , _American Beauty_ , _Interview with a Vampire_ … Brad Pitt or Tom Cruise?”

 

Shiro smiled. “Antonio Banderas,” he attempted in his worst Spanish accent.

 

Keith almost tumbled off the couch laughing. And Shiro burst out laughing at Keith’s reaction.

 

“Oh!” Shiro exclaimed. “Tom Cruise. We should watch _Top Gun_ !” Keith _had_ to watch this movie.

 

“I’ve never seen it.”

 

“What?! It’s a cheesy eighties pilot movie. They’re in the navy... we have to watch it.” Shiro then busted out a terrible rendition of “Danger Zone.”

 

“Stop, you’re scaring me!” Keith laughed. “OK, we’ll put that on the short list. There’s all kinds of classics on here, too. _Scarface, Taxi Driver, Star Wars, Purple Rain_!! I love Prince.”

 

“Who doesn’t love Prince. What’s your favorite _Star Wars_ movie?”

 

“I’ve never seen it.”

 

Shiro paused. “What?!”

 

“I can’t handle that shit. I’ve seen parts but… I don’t know, just doesn’t interest me.”

 

“This is hurting my soul… I’ll tie you down and make you watch a whole marathon one weekend.”

 

“Sounds kinky…” Keith said, partly under his breath.

 

Shiro pretended he didn’t hear that. “I think we should watch _Top Gun_ , it’s epically ridiculous! Pull up a trailer online.” Shiro walked over, placing full sake glasses and utensils on the coffee table, and walked back to grab the takeout.

 

Shiro gathered the takeout containers and looked over as Keith poked around on the tablet. He watched as Keith suddenly froze and widened his eyes. _What the hell is he doing?.... OH SHIT. Did I leave that site open?_

 

Keith looked at Shiro with a shocked smile on his face. “What-”

 

Shiro tore the tablet out of his hands and tossed it on the floor. Luckily it had a good protective cover on it. “You’re not allowed to use my tablet anymore,” Shiro said as a weak coverup.

 

“Dude, you gave me your tablet. Was that porn? That looked like some bondage-type shit…”

 

Shiro crossed his arms and shook his head, suppressing the embarrassed smile that threatened to show itself. “ _Top Gun_ or _Purple Rain_?”  

 

“Whatever you want. We can watch porn if you want to watch porn…”

 

“Keith, we’re not watching porn.”

 

Keith laughed. “You are _so_ kinky, I knew it.”

 

Shiro smiled and shook his head. “OK, that’s enough.” He was mortified. He brought the take-out containers over and couldn’t look Keith in the eye. _Why the hell did I leave that page open?_

 

Shiro could see Keith eating with a smug smile out of the corner of his eye as they both sat on the couch.

 

Shiro finally looked over. “Stop,” he laughed. “How’s your food?”

 

“It’s good, I actually like it... Do you watch straight or gay porn?”

 

“We are _not_ talking about this right now.” Shiro was still mortified. “Put on the damn movie.”

 

“I'm not allowed to touch your tablet…”

 

“Jesus.” Shiro stood up to grab the tablet he had just tossed halfway across the room as Keith laughed some more. “Behave yourself,” Shiro jokingly scolded.

 

“I think I should be telling _you_ that…”

 

“OK, you know what? No dessert.”

 

“I don't want your crazy ice cream anyway.”

 

“No making out, then.”

 

Keith pouted as he ate his noodles.

 

Shiro casted the movie to his television screen and they ate their take-out like well-behaved boys. Shiro looked over again at Keith eating noodles with his chopsticks. “Look at you using chopsticks like a pro.”

 

Keith smiled. “I impressed Celine a few weeks ago with my chopstick skills when we got Chinese. She was like, ‘whoa, when did you learn to do that?’”

 

“Speaking of which, how did little Woolf work out yesterday?”

 

“Good, I guess. According to her they hung out and ‘talked.’ ...sounded cute. I think they’re going to go see a movie this weekend or something.” Keith looked up to the TV screen for a bit. “This music is terrible. Oh, we should’ve watched _Drive_ , that fucking music is epic..”

 

“Damn. Ryan Gosling... Oh well, too late.”

 

“It was your plan to watch this damn movie the whole time.”

 

“This is a must-see if you’re going to be a pilot. OK? Stop bitching and eat your food.”

 

“Tom Cruise looks _so_ young!” Keith laughed once the movie started. “And this technology is hilarious.”

 

“Someone will laugh at our technology one day,” Shiro commented. Shiro felt Keith lean into him as they continued to eat.

 

“Dude...Iceman’s a dick. He kind of reminds me of... Lieutenant Erikson...”

 

Shiro was a little surprised at Keith’s observation. “Because of the hair?”

 

“Eh… well, yeah. That and he’s a little cocky. He rubs me the wrong way sometimes… I don’t know what it is.”

 

“Erikson's cool... I’ve known him since I was fifteen. He’s a little sleazy with girls sometimes but… he’s a good friend.”

 

“He’s your friend, not mine.”

 

Shiro tried to think about what Keith meant by that. He wondered if Erikson had said something to him. Keith and Erikson were quite opposite; he guessed they didn’t have to get along other than at a superficial level… Shiro didn’t want to get into Keith’s lack of trust in others. People would like Keith if he actually felt as comfortable with others as he acted with Shiro. He just had a lot of layers to get past; most people didn’t take the time or have the patience. But Shiro guessed that was one of the things that drew him to Keith.  Shiro was the only one that got to see him genuinely smile and open up. Keith made you work for his trust.

 

Shiro grabbed his leftovers and put them in the fridge while Keith polished off his pad se ew. He then grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer and scooped black sesame in a bowl for himself and a larger scoop of vanilla in a bowl for Keith. Shiro flopped back on the couch, leaned into Keith, and handed him his bowl of ice cream.

 

“I thought you said no dessert,” Keith said, taking the bowl.

 

“You’ve behaved yourself…” was Shiro’s response as he leaned more into Keith.

 

“You’re heavy,” Keith complained superficially as he squirmed, making Shiro shift lower down Keith’s side. Keith then directed his attention to Shiro’s bowl of gray-ish purple ice cream. “Is that the black sesame flavor?”

 

“Yeah, you complained about it last time so I didn’t even think you’d want some,” Shiro baited him. He knew what Keith was thinking. And Shiro waited for it…

 

“Can I try it?”

 

Shiro held up his spoon and fed Keith a tiny amount of ice cream. Shiro stole a glance over at Keith.

 

“Can I have another bite?”

 

“Eat _your_ ice cream.”

 

“I like yours.”

 

Shiro smirked. He wanted to hold back but it was so difficult around Keith. He fed him an even tinier amount on his spoon.

 

Keith playfully shoved Shiro. “There was nothing on your spoon. Come on…”

 

Shiro daringly dipped his finger in the ice cream and held it out without even looking over. He shuddered immediately as he felt Keith’s warm lips around his finger, sucking the ice cream off.

 

“Can I have more?” he whispered.

 

Shiro rolled his eyes back into his head. This boy was going to drive him mad. He shivered from the cold as he dipped his finger again and Keith’s warm mouth met him sooner, sucking harder, more greedily. Shiro tipped his head back and turned towards Keith, extending the same hand to pull Keith’s head into a deep kiss.

 

Shiro couldn’t describe it but Keith smelled “younger”. He smelled like “boy” and it was insanely addicting. He tasted so sweet, even without the ice cream on his tongue (as long as he hadn’t recently smoked).

 

Shiro took Keith’s bowl out of his hands and placed it on the low coffee table in front of them and then fully turned to kiss Keith from a better angle. Keith parted his lips immediately; he always wanted more. They fell into a delicious, unrushed rhythm of lips pushing and pulling, opening and closing, heads tilting to perfect their angle. Shiro licked up into Keith’s mouth and then lightly bit at his bottom lip. He felt Keith smile into their kiss, responding to the slight roughness implied.

 

Shiro wanted to pounce but waited. Instead he placed one hand on Keith’s jaw, cupping it gently. He felt Keith lean forward and wrap both arms around Shiro’s neck, pulling him tighter, deeper. Keith shifted his weight and then crawled into Shiro’s lap, straddling him just like he’d done in the video game sim at the bar. _Umm…_ this wasn’t going to end in self-control like Shiro had planned. Very few things in life went according to plan…. Shiro contemplated stopping Keith, or at least slowing down, but Shiro had started this. And he didn't want to risk Keith feeling rejected again.

 

With the weight of Keith's pelvis on his, Shiro felt the blood rush to his groin but willed himself not to move his hips as Keith ran his hands down his chest, feeling for every indentation of muscle through his shirt. Keith hadn’t had a chance last night to touch at all. They continued their leisurely, dragging kisses while Shiro reached his hands under Keith’s shirt and ran his thumbs over the smooth, sensitive skin above his hip bones. Keith shivered at the sensation.

 

Shiro moved his hands higher over the terrain of lean body and ribs. Keith brushed his hair out of his face and then slowly pulled his shirt off. OK, tonight was definitely not just going to be making out; however, Shiro decided to play dumb, “I thought we were just making out on the couch tonight.”

 

“Huh uh,” Keith's breath ghosted up Shiro's neck and his hands grabbed at the hem of Shiro's tee. “I want this off.”

 

Shiro let Keith pull his shirt over his head. Keith resumed kissing Shiro and returned his arms around Shiro's neck. Shiro relished in the feeling of skin on skin as Keith pressed his chest flush with Shiro's and rolled his hips, very obviously and fully erect. Shiro’s jaw went slack as every blood vessel throbbed with want. _Fuck it_. He immediately dipped his head forward to lick at Keith's left nipple, tipping Keith back slightly.

 

Keith let out a breathy moan.

 

Shiro licked harder and then sucked, holding Keith’s back to leverage himself. Keith groaned and then rolled his hips once more. Shiro felt the blood vessels in his groin pulse harder.

 

Keith seemed much more comfortable and confident tonight and Shiro hoped he hadn't made him nervous yesterday. Keith rolled his hips again. Shiro’s jeans were getting uncomfortable and Keith's probably were as well. Shiro ran his hands up Keith’s thighs and palmed at Keith's erection through his jeans and was rewarded with his favorite face that Keith made. Eyes rolled back in his head, eyelids fluttering, jaw dropped, neck fully exposed for Shiro.

 

Shiro leaned into Keith's body to leisurely kiss up his neck to his ear. “I think your jeans need to go,” he whispered as he took Keith's earlobe between his teeth.

 

“Mmmh kay,” Keith breathed. He rose off Shiro's lap, keeping his knees planted on either side of Shiro, so that he could unbutton his jeans. Shiro grabbed Keith’s waist and kissed the flat abdomen in front of him. Keith stalled and wrapped his arms around Shiro's head, carding his fingers through his hair.

 

Shiro's desire made him impatient and he reached for the button fly on Keith's pants, pulling all four buttons free with one yank. “Jeez, impatient?” Keith joked.

 

“A little, you're making me crazy,” Shiro admitted as he pulled Keith’s pants over his tight little ass. Shiro couldn't wait to spank it. But not tonight. He ran his hands up the back of Keith’s thighs and hungrily groped.

 

Keith shifted back down and wiggled out of his pants without getting off of the couch. Shiro looked at Keith, dripping with desire. “You are soooo sexy, Keith.”

 

Keith just smiled bashfully and looked down at the bulge in Shiro's pants. “What about _your_ pants?” Keith toyed with the button on Shiro's jeans before his slender fingers made quick work of the button and zipper.

 

“I need to get up to take these off. I'm not as bendy as you.” 

 

Keith rolled off to the side and Shiro stalled out as he watched Keith palm at himself over his underwear. _For fuck’s sake_. Keith smirked and nodded at Shiro's jeans. "I thought you were taking those off.”

 

“You're distracting me…” Shiro chewed at his bottom lip, watching Keith’s hand rub at his own length. Keith slouched and spread his legs a little wider for Shiro.

 

Shiro peeled his pants down his legs, unable to take his eyes off from Keith’s hand, teasing himself, hips rocking lightly into his own touch. “You're making me so hard,” Shiro groaned. He sat back down next to Keith and put his hand over Keith's, applying a little more pressure as Keith's hand rubbed up his own erection. Keith’s head rolled back as he fluttered his eyes closed. Shiro leaned down to kiss the side of his open mouth.

 

“Mmmm, Shiro.” Keith bucked his hips up harder as he whined Shiro's name.

 

Shiro's untouched cock throbbed as he reached under Keith’s waistband and grasped firmly at Keith’s velvety length. “Haunngh,” Keith exhaled sharply. Shiro smiled and the pounding he felt in his chest matched the pounding deep in his groin.

 

Keith’s hands weakly pulled his underwear down and Shiro helped him pull them off the rest of the way. They were going to need lube... “I'm going to get something, I'll be right back.” Shiro felt Keith's body tense up just before he stood. “It's just lube, I'm not getting anything crazy.”

 

After locating the bottle in his nightstand drawer, Shiro padded back over to the couch and found Keith still a little tense. Shiro leaned down and kissed Keith gently. “You OK?”

 

Keith nodded stiffly.

 

“You sure? I’m not going to make you do something you’re not comfortable with, OK?” Shiro realized that ‘getting lube’ could hint at any number of scenarios...

 

“I know…” Keith recovered his prior intensity as he eyed Shiro’s obvious erection, “I wanna see you.”

 

Shiro remained standing and pulled his boxer briefs down, letting his erection bob obscenely in front of Keith. He ran his hand over the shaft once and then sat down, kissing Keith on the neck before hauling him onto his lap.  He pulled Keith into a bruising kiss and ran his hand through Keith’s hair at the base of his skull. He wanted to pull, but not tonight. Shiro adjusted himself so their erections slotted together. He untwisted his fingers from Keith’s mess of hair. Holding Keith's hips steady, he rocked his own hips up for friction so that Keith would get the idea.

 

Keith's mouth dropped open and his head fell forward against Shiro’s. “Oh, god, Shiro.”

 

The ribbed feeling of their cocks sliding next to each other felt primal as Keith took over and rolled his hips at his own pace. _Good boy_. Shiro leaned forward and kissed Keith’s mouth while he reached for the lube. He couldn't wait to see his face once that was added to the equation.

 

Keith made sharp exhales against Shiro's mouth with each thrust. Their kisses had long lost their initial grace and became sloppier. “Hang on,” Shiro whispered, popping the lube cap and dripping it onto their cocks. He messily spread it around and grabbed Keith's hips even more firmly, hard enough to leave bruises.

 

He let Keith resume his thrusting and relished in the ‘oh my god’ face Keith made again, rolling his eyes up into his skull at the new, slick sensation that the lube added. “Oh...fuck.” Shiro held their torsos flush while Keith ground his hips with increasing intensity.

 

“You feel so good, Keith,” Shiro encouraged, arching his back, bruising Keith’s hips with his grip.

 

“Fuck…” was all Keith’s vocabulary could manage.

 

Shiro sucked along Keith's neck, trying not to leave visible marks. The heat in Shiro's gut intensified and pulsed, threatening to release when Keith dug his nails into Shiro’s shoulders. “Oh god,” he whined. “Keith, you ready to come for me?”

 

“Fuck...Shiro…” Keith swallowed.

 

“Mmm, baby, I bet you look so pretty when you come, I can’t wait.”

 

“Oh fuck, Shiro…” Keith’s body trembled.

 

“Gonna feel so good when you come all over me…”

 

“Shiro…” Keith's hips jerked once and then he crumbled as Shiro felt hot and wet spill onto him.

 

Shiro let himself go afterwards and moaned as he came. He pulled Keith into him tighter as each blinding wave of his orgasm rolled over his body.

 

They both rested on each other for a minute; breathless, sweaty, sticky. Keith suddenly giggled. “Baby?”

 

Shiro smiled tiredly. “You like when I talk dirty. Don't think I haven't noticed,” he said darkly as he pinched Keith's side.

 

“Whatever,” Keith batted his hand away and buried his slight embarrassment in the crook of Shiro's neck. Shiro turned his head to press a kiss into Keith's hair and then nudged him to get off so Shiro could deal with the sticky mess they'd made.  

 

After they’d cleaned off, Shiro held Keith naked, sprawled on the couch as they watched the final scenes of their movie.

 

“This is a terrible movie,” Keith commented.

 

“How do you know? You didn't even watch it.”

 

“Hand me your tablet so I can pick the next movie.”

 

Shiro saw right through him. “Nice try. You are _not_ touching my tablet.”

 

“Dammit.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again for the love, enthusiastic input, encouragement, and kudos <3


	16. I had the best weekend ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgot to include this when i originally published this chapter: warning for homophobic language at the end of this chapter

Keith awoke on Saturday morning and found himself alone in Shiro’s bed. Again. And he did not smell coffee. _Can’t win every morning…_ But he heard the faint white noise of a shower running. Speaking of which, Keith needed to pee...

 

He shifted his weight to push himself up and felt a dull pain on the inside of his hip bones. He looked down and saw bruises from Shiro’s fingers. _Ow…_ Keith looked around for his clothes and noticed the familiar bottle of lube partly sticking out of a drawer in Shiro's nightstand. He should mind his own business, but he _really_ wanted to know what else was in the drawer. The shower was still running… He hesitated, thinking of how this would be invading Shiro’s privacy… and refrained.

 

Keith threw on his shirt and then hovered outside the bathroom door for a minute. Was it weird to pee in front of Shiro? It’s not like he hadn’t seen any of… well, everything, already. Thank god he didn’t have to take a shit… He knocked. “Hey, Shiro?” There was no answer; maybe Shiro couldn’t hear over the water? He knocked again and then peeked his head in. “Shiro?”

 

“Hey!” He heard Shiro’s voice coming from the standing shower door. The frosted glass door tempted Keith’s eyes with blurred skin tones. “What’s up?”

 

“Um... I gotta piss. Do you mind? Sorry.”

 

Shiro poked his head out, sliding the shower door, hair dripping into his face. “Do what you need to do. I don’t care.”

 

“OK. I didn’t know if that would be… weird,” Keith trailed off. Shiro was comfortable with everything, at all times; Keith was rarely comfortable in his own skin.

 

“Did you sleep better?” Shiro asked over the running water.

 

“Uh, same.” He’d always slept alone so it would take getting used to another body being in the same bed.

 

As Keith finished peeing, he felt water being flicked on him from over the shower door. “Ugh, grow up,” Keith laughed. He received another flick of water in response.

 

Keith searched the bathroom for something ridiculous to throw over the shower door while he washed his hands. There was an empty toilet paper roll sitting on the counter. Keith smirked and lobbed it over the door.

 

“What the hell?!”

 

Keith laughed, amused with himself but was then hit in the side of the head by the cardboard roll, this time sopping wet. “Ugh, gross. Shiro!”

 

“That was all you.”

 

Keith looked around for something else. He’d toss it in and then run out. A tube of toothpaste would work and not hurt too badly. He tossed it over and turned to grab the handle of the bathroom door to make his escape.

 

“That’s it,” he heard Shiro say. The shower door slid open and Shiro tore Keith from the bathroom door with one arm before he could run out. Damn, this guy was strong. He pulled Keith into the shower and Keith shouted as he got soaked. Shiro was so cute as he laughed, all wet... and naked and... _Fuck._

 

Keith gave in and embraced his “wet dog” look in his heavy, dripping shirt. “I’m going to get out and drip on all your shit.”

 

“Not if I keep you in here…” Shiro smiled and pinned Keith to the wall, planting a dripping wet kiss on Keith’s ear, trailing down his neck.  

 

Keith hummed. “You win…”

 

\-----

 

Shiro made eggs and avocado toast that morning, and of course, coffee for Keith. Shiro looked at the weather on his phone. “Today’s going to be a good desert day. We'll have time to head further in if you’re up for it.”

 

“Cool, just go easy on me with sword practice, this time.”

 

“We'll see… Actually, we can save the swords for tomorrow; if we leave soon, we could make it out to Monument Valley. Have you been?”

 

“No, I never go anywhere.”

 

“It's absolutely gorgeous. It takes about three hours and you'll be able to drive most of the way if we stay off the highway. We don't have anything else going on, right? Unless you’re sick of me by now...”

 

“I told you, that's impossible.” Keith smiled. He didn't want to overstay his welcome, but he was excited to spend another day with Shiro.

 

System interrupted, announcing an incoming call from Aunt Miyako’s land line. Shiro groaned. “I don't know if I have the energy for this right now.”

 

“How much energy do you need for a phone call?”

 

“Ugh, you have no idea…”

 

Keith loved giving a Shiro a hard time; he smirked as he called out, “System, answer call.”

 

Shiro shot Keith A Look as the video call projected onto the wall perpendicular to the island. Five kids wearing pajamas, between the ages of three and ten, bounced up and down, shouting at the screen, “Takashi!!!”

 

Keith almost covered his ears from the sound but then realized they could see him. “How much sugar did you guys already eat?!” Shiro laughed, “It's 8:00 A.M. there!!”

 

An older woman popped her head into the screen and waved. “They were asking for you.” The woman had a slight Japanese accent, gray-streaked hair and a kind face.

 

“Hi, Aunt Miyako. Lina!! Are you in college yet? You're as tall as your grandma!”

 

“Takashi, I'm only ten!”

 

“Oh, I forgot.” This was adorable, Shiro behaved like a cheesy uncle with these kids. “Auntie, you have these monsters all weekend?!”

 

“Hey!!!” the kids shouted in unison.

 

“Yeah, Anna has a weekend conference in San Fran. How are you, love?”

 

“I'm good, keeping busy. As usual…”

 

The youngest held up a doll for Shiro to see. “Is that Miki or Kiki, I can’t remember all of your dolls’ names.”

 

“No ‘Kashi, she’s new! Her name is Mimi.”

 

“Oh, sorry. Pleased to meet you, Mimi.”

 

The little one giggled and ran off to find another toy.

 

The little boy of the group showed him a rocket he made out of Legos that did not resemble anything that flew. Shiro laughed. “Jacob, I don’t know if I can fly that, man. I think it’s missing a wing…” Keith sat back and observed, unable to wipe the smile of amusement from his face, chuckling to himself.

 

Aunt Miyako and Shiro caught up for a bit. The kids screamed in the background, digging up more things to show Shiro: drawings, spelling tests, more unidentifiable objects intended for flight; Shiro enthusiastically commenting on each thing they showed him. Finally, Lina whispered into Aunt Miyako's ear and looked at Keith. Then Aunt Miyako switched to Japanese to speak to Shiro. “Kore wa daredesuka? Bo-ifurendo ka?”

 

Shiro blushed and looked down. He looked over at Keith with a goofy smile and cleared his throat. “Umm...they want to know if you’re my boyfriend,” he said in a low voice.

 

“Why would they think…” _I guess I’m sitting here at 9:00 A.M. eating breakfast with wet hair and a post-shower-handjob glow…_ “I don't know, you tell me,” Keith laughed nervously.

 

Shiro smiled. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Keith. Keith, this is my Aunt Miyako. She’s the one I lived with when I moved here. And these are my cousin’s kids: Lina, Ellie, Jacob, Jenna, and Lara. Keith waved and received a resounding, “Hi Keith!!!”

 

“When are you visiting next? Make sure you bring him, he looks like he needs to eat.”

 

Shiro chuckled. “I'm feeding him, don't worry.” He then looked at Keith. “My Aunt wants to fatten you up.”

 

“He's feeding me,” Keith called out.

 

“Sorry we interrupted your...breakfast.” Aunt Miyako sounded slightly embarrassed now.

 

“Oh, no worries. I'll call you later this week, OK? I haven’t heard anything more from the hospital, they’re supposed to update me tomorrow.”

 

“Sounds good. Nice to meet you, Keith. Goodbye, Takashi.” Aunt Miyako waved and the kids all screamed goodbye in the background.

 

“System, end call.” And then Shiro looked over at Keith. “I need to turn up the sensitivity of System’s voice recognition, you’re dangerous.”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t think that through. That was pretty fucking cute, though. You'd make a really good dad.”

 

“Oh, thanks. When I visit, I usually stay for a week. And then I need _another_ week just to recover. Those kids are nonstop; it’s exhausting. And then I have Disney songs stuck in my head for another week after that.”

 

Keith laughed. “Aww, what’s your favorite Disney movie?”

 

“ _Frozen_ ,” Shiro said with a straight face.

 

Keith laughed harder. “Seriously?!”

 

“No… I don’t know. _WALL-E_ is actually really good if you’ve never seen it. I think that’s my favorite but the kids get bored when I want to watch it.”

 

“You’re really adorable sometimes,” Keith said aloud without realizing.

 

Shiro smiled. “I peg you for an _Aladdin_ kinda guy.”

 

“That’s a good one… I like _Toy Story_ , I always felt bad about getting rid of old toys each time I had to move. I thought they’d be sad so that movie struck a chord with me… I guess I don’t identify with most Disney movies. The characters don’t have parents because they died or got separated, not because they abandoned them... I don’t know.” Keith trailed off, not wanting to dig up unnecessary angst. He avoided the slight look of pain crossing Shiro’s face. “Look at us bonding over Disney movies. So nerdy.” Keith smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “So… boyfriend, huh?”

 

Shiro beamed. “Yeah, you kind of met my family already, too.”

 

They both traded ridiculous smiles and Keith was relieved. “I guess we don’t need to have THAT talk later…”

 

“Actually…” Shiro hesitated.

 

 _Oh, great_. _Here we go._

 

“Last night, on the couch… you acted fine for a while and then you tensed up. I know I keep saying it, but I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do. Really, we should’ve started slower but... that’s my fault.  I just… I want you to be comfortable with telling me ‘no’ and I want you to be comfortable with telling me what you want. OK? You shouldn’t be nervous about anything.”

 

Keith really hated talking about feelings and sex and awkward stuff. “OK.” He wanted to know what Shiro was into, but couldn’t bring himself to ask. He also didn’t want to come off as inexperienced… or boring if he wasn't into the things Shiro liked.

 

“OK…” They finished eating quietly. “So, do you think you can be ready so we can be on the road by 9:30?” Shiro interrupted Keith’s wandering thoughts.

 

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

 

\-----

 

The boys were out all day in the desert. Keith drove for most of the time, once again liberated by wind and wide stretches of red sand. Monument Valley was breathtaking and it was nice to be far from the Garrison. “We should camp here sometime,” Shiro said, reading the visitors’ guide.

 

“Ew.”

 

“What do you mean, ‘ew’?”

 

“Ew. Like, no bathrooms, no showers, no normal food, no heat at night. Not my thing.”

 

“I’d keep you warm and share my sleeping bag with you.” Shiro winked at Keith.

 

Keith smiled. “Maybe I’d like that kind of camping… I need a roof over my head, at least.”

 

“So… you’re amenable to a cabin?” Shiro asked, threading their fingers to hold Keith’s hand and lead him off to hike another trail.

 

“Yeah…” He was getting used to the sexually physical contact but the casual, affectionate touches still made Keith melt.

 

They hiked until the sun started to set and drove back mostly in the dark. Keith loved it out here. And he loved the comfort of being around Shiro all day. When they were thirty minutes away from the Garrison, they switched so that Shiro could drive the rest of the way. Keith looked up at the stars as he held on, trying to identify the constellations that Shiro had taught him last time they had escaped into the desert but they began to fade as they neared the Garrison and its light pollution.

 

They returned to Shiro’s place late. Keith just wanted to collapse in bed but Shiro wouldn’t allow his dusty ass in the bedroom so Keith let Shiro drag him into the shower again.

 

\-----

 

Keith woke up on Sunday and found Shiro still in bed with him. He smiled and scooted over to cuddle against Shiro’s broad back. Shiro stirred a little and reached behind him to sleepily run his hand up Keith’s side before returning it to its prior position. Keith kissed his shoulder blade and Shiro rolled over to face Keith.

 

“Hi,” he said, half-opening his eyes.

 

“Hi,” Keith returned, fully awake now. “No gym this morning?”

 

Shiro groaned as he stretched. “No…later.”

 

“Later? You’re nuts.”

 

“Is this the third night you’ve slept at my place?” Shiro asked into the pillow.

 

Keith chuckled, “Yeah. A little crazy. You can kick me out today.”

 

“It’s nice having you around. I don’t mind.”

 

Shiro’s mobile rang. He fumbled for his phone, attempted to focus his eyes on the screen to see who it was, and then answered it. “Hey man, what’s up?... Yeah, nothing much here… Cool… Wait, what?!” Shiro sat up abruptly.  “That’s amazing! Congratulations!… This is huge, you’re going to be on TV all the time,” Shiro laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I know… OK… Congrats, again. I’m so happy for you, man… OK, later.” Shiro ran his hand through his hair. “Oh, my god,” he said to himself after he ended the call.

 

Keith was curious, naturally. “Who was that?”

 

Shiro snorted. “Iceman...”

 

Keith grunted his acknowledgement. _Erikson..._

 

“He just found out they’re naming him Aeronautics Press Secretary for the Kerberos Mission. That’s huge for him. They’re announcing it tomorrow and he said they’re announcing the Commander for the mission as well so he’s got to read up on his bio tonight so he can start handling the media onslaught.”

 

“Wow. That’s a big deal. Good for him, I guess. Who’s commander?”

 

“He couldn’t tell me. Classified until the announcement tomorrow.”

 

“And then the commander picks the rest of his crew?”

 

“Yep. This is crazy, I can’t believe Erikson got that position.”

 

Keith had to admit that the whole mission was exciting. The Garrison was always buzzing, throwing around rumors about the epic exploration mission that never quite took off. Tomorrow would be a crazy day since it was the start of flight school, plus the hallways would be crammed with all the new, first-year cadets. And on top of that, everyone would be talking about the Kerberos announcements. Keith started to feel a slight sourness in his stomach. He didn’t want this weekend to end; he didn’t want to go back to class tomorrow even if it was Intro to Independent Flight Simulation. “So, when do I need to get out of your hair?”

 

“After you get a proper Kenjutsu lesson.”

 

Keith smiled. That was music to his ears; another few hours added to the “best weekend ever”. His muscles, on the other hand, ached at the thought. “Where are we going to do that?”

 

Shiro stretched the residual sleep out of his body. “Um… I think the rec building might be open. We could try there first. It’s way too sunny today for the desert, we’d get fried. Or there’s the gym I go to in town.”

 

“The MMA gym?”

 

“Yeah, where you were dragged in by two police officers...”

 

Keith laughed. “How could I forget? I don’t think I can handle that place.”

 

“Ha, yeah… OK. We’ll try the rec building, then.”

 

\-----

 

They ate breakfast and then walked over to the recreation building which was almost completely empty. Shiro’s ID got them into the smaller staff rooms to practice and they ran through the beginning stances again. Shiro went a little easier on Keith this time and Keith was a little less distracted.

 

\-----

 

Shiro walked Keith to his dorm late in the afternoon. The Garrison campus was already filling up with cadets and staff returning. The dorm hallways were packed with new recruits moving in, parents saying good-bye.

 

Rather than heading to his room, Keith decided to knock on Celine’s door first.

 

“Hey stranger,” she said when she opened her door. Keith could see two of her other friends hanging out in her room. He returned their cordial waves.

 

“How was your movie?” Keith asked.

 

“Good… I got a goodnight kiss.” She grinned. “He’s going back to Seattle to hang with his parents for a while though and finish up his Boeing interviews, so I don’t know when I’m going to see him next. I’m not going to get my hopes up. Where’ve you been?”

 

“Shiro’s.”

 

“ _All_ weekend?”

 

Keith couldn’t suppress his grin. “Yeah…”

 

Celine’s mouth dropped open. “Whoa. Oh my god. Good for you!”

 

“Yeah, it was really nice. Sorry I ran out of the party the other night;  I didn’t like leaving you alone like that but I was a fucking mess…”

 

“Don’t worry about it, I was in good hands. Um... I wanted to tell you about something that happened though…” She dropped her voice and stepped further out of the doorway into the hall.

 

“What?”

 

“So, you ran out and Shiro followed you. And then there was that blonde girl who went outside and then came back in.”

 

“Yeah. Alexis.” Keith curled his lip.

 

“OK, well… She came back in and pulled the older Woolf brother aside and Erikson and Moore were there. I pretended like I was listening to Neil but she was ranting.”

 

Keith’s heart rate picked up. “What did she say?”

 

\-----

 

Alexis grabbed Woolf by the arm and Erikson and Moore followed. “Are you guys messing with me?! Like, am I a joke?”

 

Woolf held up his hands. “What are you talking about?”

 

“You’re just letting me bark up the wrong tree? Never thought to tell me?!”

 

“OK, let me repeat my previous question: What are you talking about?” Woolf continued calmly.

 

“What’s the deal with that Keith kid?!”

 

Woolf continued in his attempt to defuse Alexis. “I don't know much about the kid. From what I understand, he’s a genius pilot with a shitty discipline record and Shiro’s kinda… taken him under his wing.”

 

Alexis was fuming. “He’s gay.”

 

“Keith? I mean, I assumed but it’s never come up so… I don’t know for sure. Why does that matter?” Woolf reasoned.

 

Alexis raised her voice. “I’m. Talking. About. Shiro.”

 

Woolf was shocked. “Wait what?!”

 

Moore folded his arms behind Woolf and stayed silent.

 

Erikson narrowed his eyes and finally spoke up. “There’s no way Shiro’s a fag. You’re just pissed because he’s not trying to get on you like every other guy.”

 

\-----

 

Keith bristled at Celine’s synopsis of the conversation. “I knew I didn’t like Erikson.”

 

“Keith... Just watch out for him.”

 


	17. You bought me a set of chopsticks

Monday morning, Keith headed to the flight building for class. He glanced at his email before entering the building and sure enough, there was the announcement in his inbox.

 

For immediate release:

The Galaxy Garrison officially announces preparations for the Kerberos Mission for ice extraction and probe placement within the Kuiper Belt. Kerberos is one of five moons orbiting Pluto that shows promise for single-celled life. The ice extraction will help Galaxy Garrison scientists identify microbes and chemical compounds on other astronomical bodies within our solar system and advance our scientific knowledge of life within our galaxy.

Commander Samuel Holt leads the mission in space and will appoint the balance of the ship’s crew, to be announced at a later date. Chief Commander Mitchell Iverson directs the mission from the ground and oversees all department heads at mission control.

All press inquiries are to be directed to the press secretaries of the respective departments for which the subject matter pertains:

Astronomy, Science and Research- Anabel Esposito, Ph.D.

Engineering and Mechanics- Senior Captain Markus Bhatt

Communications and Technology- Captain Samantha Merianos

Aviation and Aeronautics- Lieutenant Jesper Erikson

Finance and Federal Compliance- Lieutenant Adam Parks

 

It was starting...

 

\-----

 

Keith stood at attention as Commander Rahman paced up the line of soon-to-be pilots. This quarter was comprised of three different flight simulation classes: Independent Flight, Co-pilot Assisted Flight, and Emergency and Recovery. Most of the students in this class Keith had never seen before. Many students who had already opted into cargo or passenger flight tracks were in different prerequisite classes prior to flight school and the Garrison randomized the student cohorts for flight simulation so that they’d get to know each other.

 

“All right, cadets. The best way to learn is from your mistakes and the mistakes made by others; we also learn best by doing. So, all of you will fly through the same five-minute simulation, simultaneously and unscored. If you crash, which most of you will in the first thirty seconds, stand behind a fellow student and learn from what they’re doing. We’re going to do this exercise, then we will all discuss what problems you had. I will then guide you all through the simulation together and we’ll try the exercise again independently. We will begin scoring simulations at the end of the week and those scores go on your record. You need average raw scores of 250+ if you’re going to apply for the passenger or fighter-class license. Everyone to their assigned sim!”

 

The twenty students started up, Keith heard groans as a few students didn’t even make it off the runway. Keith pulled up his landing gear and heard more students crash as they failed to achieve the correct angle of attack and lost their velocity. He heard more crash as they failed to maneuver around the first obstacle. Keith checked the time and it was just over fifty seconds into the simulation. From his peripheral vision, he saw two other students left. He took each maneuvering challenge with increasing precision; he realized this was actually easier than the simulation Shiro had pulled up for him. He heard another crash: one more down. After seventy-five seconds, the last student crashed and everyone gathered behind Keith as he completed the simulation alone.

 

Keith’s landing was bumpy and he almost skidded off the runway. The screen went blank when the timer finished and he looked up at the instructor. “I still need to work on my landing,” Keith offered and then looked around at the shocked faces behind him.

 

Commander Rahman pretended to not be impressed, “Very good, cadet, and yes, you _do_ need to work on your landing.” He looked at Keith’s ID and then flipped through his roster, nodding. “All right, everyone back to your seats, let’s talk about what went wrong for everyone else.”

 

\-----

 

Keith smoked out in the courtyard after class. He was happy with his performance.  He wanted to prove himself to the instructor right away but wasn’t sure that he liked the attention it earned from his classmates. They watched everything he did, whispered as he walked by, and stared as they passed him in the courtyard to grab lunch before the next class.

 

Keith noticed one of the students lingering in the courtyard out of the corner of his eye. “Hey man, that was some pretty sweet flying,” the student said.

 

“Thanks.” Keith inspected his cigarette rather than looking over. Why was it so painful to talk to people?

 

“I was the one who made it to the seventy-five-second mark, I don’t know if you noticed... It doesn’t touch your full five minutes, but… looks like we’re kinda like, the most advanced in the class. You and I will have to stay late to tutor the other students and stuff. Or at least I heard they do that. They pair up the best students with...” Keith tuned him out. This kid was full of himself; they weren’t even in the same league. Keith wasn’t even trying to be overconfident, that was just the way it was; just the way _he_ was. He only needed to focus on his success. Keith didn’t respond; he didn’t even know _how_ to respond to kid’s rambling.

 

“Uh… It’s Keith, right?” the student continued.

 

Keith glanced over. _Is this guy still talking?_ He looked the kid up and down with suspicion. “Yeah.” The student was a bit gangly-looking but cute, slightly taller than Keith, darker-skinned, possibly Latino.

 

“Cool, I’m Lance.” He introduced himself, holding out a hand to shake.

 

Keith looked at the boy's hand like it would give him herpes, then took a drag of his cigarette and looked away. “Nice to meet you,” he sighed with indifference as he exhaled his smoke into the warm desert breeze. He didn’t want this kid’s input. And he didn’t need this kid or any other student dragging him down.

 

Lance quirked an eyebrow and hovered with his hand out, “O...K… Uh, good talk…” his voice trailed off as he turned and headed back into the building. “Nice to meet you, too, jerk off,” Keith heard him mutter under his breath, maybe even a curse in Spanish, for good measure.

 

\-----

 

While Keith rocked his first flight class for the semester, Astronomy and Interstellar Navigation was going to be a struggle. It didn’t help that it was crazy boring _and_ held in the general public planetarium with reclining seats. He was going to need Shiro’s help for this class. Keith looked over his cryptic notes from the lecture while he ate dinner in the cafeteria, glancing up every so often for Shiro. It was stir fry Monday after all. He spotted Moore first.

 

“Hey! How was first day of flight? Did you school those kids or what?” Moore playfully punched Keith in the shoulder.

 

Keith smiled. “Uh, kinda…”

 

“Crushing dreams, ruthlessly killing hopes and aspirations,” Medina said as he approached and shook his head. “You and Shiro, heartless bastards, the both of ya…”

 

“Jesus, Medina,” Shiro laughed and winked hello to Keith.

 

Keith noticed Erikson hanging behind Shiro and the others. _Did he always hang back? Was he always like that?_ Erikson smiled and rolled his eyes at Medina as well. _Ok, that’s standard behavior for him, right?_

 

 _Just act like nothing is different._  “Lieutenant. Congratulations.”

 

“Thanks, Rookie. I’m already regretting it. I can’t sleep, my phone rings every three minutes, I’m in meetings all day…”

 

Medina wrapped an arm around Erikson. “He just doesn’t like working that hard,” he teased.

 

“Whatever.” Erikson put his hand in Medina’s face to push him away. “I’m not going to sleep tonight either because I’m preparing for a press conference tomorrow.”

 

“You’re not getting sympathy from us, man, you wanted this shit,” Medina provoked.

 

Moore looked over to Erikson. “So, what do you think about Commander Holt? Everyone’s betting that he’s choosing his son as lead scientist, you hear anything about it yet?”

 

Erikson threw up one hand while he held his tray. “I don’t know and if I did and told you-”

 

“-I’d have to kill you…” Medina interrupted, laughing hysterically at his own joke. “Lighten up, man. You won’t even let us throw you a fucking party to celebrate.”

 

Erikson tensed up and shot Medina an annoyed look. “I don’t have time! Why is this a fucking joke to you? And Moore, why are you even asking? Aren’t _you_ friends with Matt Holt? Ask him yourself.”

 

Shiro attempted to defuse the escalating argument. “OK, guys… we should go eat.” He turned to Keith while Medina, Moore and Erikson bickered. “Erikson gets hangry… Coming by later?”

 

Keith grinned. “Yeah.”

 

“OK, see you soon.” Shiro smiled warmly.

 

“I’m fucking serious, Medina!” Erikson and Medina’s squabble came back to the foreground as Shiro stepped away.

 

Shiro shook his head at the racket. “Seriously, guys? Knock it off. And not in front of cadets. Let’s go.”

 

“OK, Dad. Later, Keith,” Medina waved goodbye as he jogged ahead to separate himself from Erikson.

 

“See ya, Prodigy.” Moore waved with a smile and followed.

 

Keith held his breath as Erikson lingered. Erikson let out a breath of frustration as his gaze met Keith’s; their eyes locked for two seconds but it felt like an excruciating two hours. “Take it easy, Rookie,” he gritted through his teeth before strolling into line behind the others.

 

_You too…_

 

\-----

 

Keith knocked on Shiro’s door later that evening, unsure if he should bring up the Erikson thing. He didn’t want to be the cause of a rift between the two. Shiro let Keith in and planted a casual kiss on Keith’s mouth. “How’d sim class go?” Shiro inquired.

 

“It was-  Shiro, I’m _not_ listening to Tom Petty. System play Violent Femmes. System. System?! Goddammit, Shiro!”

 

Shiro laughed. “I told you I was going to turn up the sensitivity. You’re trouble. And how can you hate Tom Petty?! What is wrong with you? Ugh… System, it’s OK, you can play Violent Femmes... Anyway… how was class?”

 

“Good, I kicked everyone’s ass and now they all hate me. Business as usual…” Keith took his spot on the bar stool.

 

“You could at least start by not assuming that everyone else in your class is an idiot. You could _try_ playing nice for once.”

 

“I only play nice with you, Shiro...”

 

“Do you? I think I’ve got a few scratches on the back of my neck from the other night that prove otherwise...”

 

“Whatever. You like it.” Keith smirked. He kind of liked the idea of leaving marks to remind Shiro of what they did when no one else was around. The sound of a crowd cheering from Shiro’s TV caught Keith’s attention. “Are you watching... baseball?”

 

“Yeah, Oakland baby.”

 

“You’re such a jock.”

 

“What?! It’s not like I sit and watch college football all day. I’m going to drop you off at Erikson and Woolf’s place for a weekend this fall and then you’ll appreciate my lack of interest in American sports _real_ quicklike.”

 

“Please don’t.” Keith winced. “I’ll take your word for it. Um...Is Erikson OK? He acted a little... weird.” Keith decided he’d say something only if Shiro reported anything that sounded suspicious.

 

“I think he’s overwhelmed. He didn’t return any texts from yesterday or today. I thought it was just me but apparently it’s everyone. He’s just really trying to keep his head above the water right now. He’ll get the hang of it. Really, they need to appoint the secretaries earlier so that they’re better prepared, but I honestly think the Garrison does it like this so they don’t have to pay the extra salary for the few weeks in advance.”

 

“Kinda messed up. I wasn’t sure if Erikson was… I don’t know… annoyed from the party last Thursday or anything… I kinda made you leave early, you know?”

 

“Nah, I had texted him later about my whole family thing. He understood.”

 

_OK… So, we’ll leave it at that._

 

Shiro portioned the rice as usual and placed Keith’s bowl in front of him. “Oh, I picked up something for you.” Shiro pulled out his usual bamboo chopsticks and handed Keith a small long box.

 

“Do I get my own chopsticks? Shouldn’t I start with a toothbrush?” Keith asked as he accepted the gift. “If there’s actually just kimchi in here I will hurt you.” Shiro laughed while Keith opened the box and, not that he was a chopstick expert, but he’d never seen chopsticks that looked like these. They were a sleek and solid sterling silver. “Wow, these are really nice.”

 

“I got them for you because Korea is the only country that uses metal chopsticks. Plus they’re just kind of badass-looking.”

 

“That’s ‘cause my people are fancier than yours,” Keith joked. “These are really cool, though, thank you.” No one had ever bought him something “just because”.

 

“You’re welcome. The lady at the store gave me this whole history but basically the wealthy in Korea used to use gold chopsticks, then switched to silver because it was thought that they’d tarnish if their food was poisoned so everyone started doing it. And they’re thought to be cleaner than wood and bamboo.”

 

“So all of _your_ chopsticks are dirty?” Keith teased.

 

“Maybe I just don’t want you dirtying mine.” Shiro always gave it right back. “No matcha, right?”

 

“I’ll try it again, I don’t want to hear your bitching about how I don’t try stuff.” Keith struggled a bit with the new chopsticks. They were heavier and the smooth surface didn’t grip food the way the bamboo ones did. The rice was more difficult to pick up and god help him if he had to eat noodles with these things. Keith was quiet while he focused on the challenge his new chopsticks presented.

 

Shiro watched with amusement. “So that’s how I get you keep quiet and stop giving me a hard time.”

 

“Fuck you, these things are slippery,” Keith complained.

 

“Yeah, I should’ve thought about that. I’ll see if the place I got them from will score the ends to make it easier.”

 

“I’ll get it.”

 

“Mmmm, I don’t want Aunt Miyako getting upset when she sees you’ve lost weight because you’re not eating… Do you want regular chopsticks?”

 

“Nope, I’ll get it…”

 

“OK…” Shiro still watched.

 

“Stop staring at me!” Keith laughed

 

Shiro started laughing as well. He placed a set of normal chopsticks in front of Keith. “I won’t judge…” But Keith wouldn’t give in and eventually finished his bowl.

 

“So,” Shiro started while he washed the dishes, “Plans this weekend?”

 

“I always tell you, I don’t do anything so if you’ve got ideas, it’s safe to assume that I have nothing going on.”

 

“But it’s your birthday…”

 

“It’s just like every other day. It’s not a big deal.”

 

“Well… I have a few ideas but nothing solidified. What time is your last class on Friday?”

 

 _What is he up to?_ “Um, I’m done at 1600,” Keith answered with suspicion.

 

“Hmm... OK. Can you swim?”

 

Keith cocked an eyebrow. “I can ‘not drown’. I’m not like, doing laps and synchronized swimming and shit.”

 

“OK, good enough for me.”

 

“What the hell are you planning? Please don’t do anything crazy or go out of your way, it’s seriously not a big deal.”

 

“I want to do something, OK? I know you like getting out of here so if nothing else, then it’s just another weekend to get away before you get bogged down with school stuff. I wish we had time to make it out to the beach in Cali, but it’s just not going to happen with Friday night traffic. We’d need a longer weekend for that. But I’ll come up with something.”

 

“OK...” Keith smiled. He was game for another weekend with Shiro all to himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “...Lance and Keith, neck and neck” lol
> 
>  
> 
> Also, all the names I use are completely made up so if there is ever any likeness to you or someone you know, it’s a coincidence, i’m pulling these names out of my ass. Literally, I was standing on the subway looking at a lawyer ad and was like, oh, Esposito, good last name.
> 
> as always, thanks for the love


	18. You owe me a damn spoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief smut warning for the end of this chapter. Like you’re surprised...

Keith checked the time on his phone: three minutes until the lecture ended. He was going insane; he hadn't seen Shiro since Monday, which wasn't much time considering he’d gone weeks without seeing him before. But now it felt like an eternity since they'd spent most of the prior weekend together. Keith wondered if Shiro had actually planned anything for his birthday. He didn't really care, he just wanted to be around him. Keith smiled to himself realizing that he genuinely had fun with Shiro no matter what they did. It almost felt strange for Keith to be this comfortable around someone.

 

A tone signaled the end of class and the students crowded into the hallways of the astrophysics wing. Keith spotted Shiro leaning on the wall, still in uniform, waiting. Keith approached and had to refrain from grabbing him and kissing him until they were both breathless. He settled for “Hey.”

 

“Hi. How was class?” Shiro asked, a big smile on his face, also clearly trying to restrain himself from reaching out for physical contact.

 

“Meh.”

 

“Did you pack yet?”

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“I’m whisking you away for the weekend.”

 

Keith couldn’t hold back his enormous smile. “I haven’t packed. And you didn’t answer my question. Where to?”

 

“Utah.”

 

Keith quirked an eyebrow. “Dammit, you’re a polygamist. I knew it.”

 

“Ha! Yeah, I’m bringing you to meet my husband and two wives. The area is called Glen Canyon near Escalante. It’s further west than Monument Valley, similar setting with all the cool rock formations but a little more greenery and it’s along a winding river, there’s all kinds of warm springs and waterfalls. I found a cool place to stay, too.”

 

“Wow, sounds awesome. Your ‘cool place’ isn’t camping, right?”

 

Shiro laughed. “No.”

 

“I don’t know if I trust you,” Keith teased as they wandered out of the building towards the dorms.

 

“I think you’ll like it,” Shiro said. “So, we’ll stop at your place first so you can change and pack and then stop at mine before heading out...” Keith was startled as Shiro held his arm out for Keith to stop while they cut through the faculty parking lot. “Look alive,” he said as he stood at attention and saluted. Keith followed suit.

 

A high-ranking officer with gray hair and glasses approached. “Captain Shirogane.”

 

Shiro dropped his salute and shook the officer’s hand. “Commander Holt. Congratulations, sir. Good to see you.”

 

“Thank you. It’s been a _busy_ week. I’m trying to hurry home so that I’m not late for dinner. Again. Mrs. Holt has not been happy with me the past few days.”

 

Shiro smiled. “Uh-oh. You better hurry, then. Say ‘hi’ to the family for me.”

 

“Will do, Captain. I’ve got your proposal on my desk. We’ll talk next week, OK?”

 

“Thank you, sir. Enjoy your weekend.”

 

\-----

 

Shiro drove the entire four hours north to Glen Canyon. It was dark when they pulled into the parking lot of a large rustic lodge. Shiro unstrapped their bags from the hover bike and carried them into the lodge, up to the front desk.

 

“Hello!” greeted a middle-aged man. “Checking in?”

 

“Yeah, it’s under Shirogane… S.H.I.R-”

 

“Oh, I see it. Um.. Tak- Taka-”

 

“Takashi.” Shiro ended the man’s struggle quickly.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

 

“Ok, so I have a riverfront cabin for you with a king-sized bed. Two nights, correct?”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Where you from?”

 

“Arizona.”

 

“Welcome. You boys brothers?”

 

“No...”

 

“Oh…” Keith watched as the man looked up and between him and Shiro. Keith narrowed his eyes. “Um, I’ll just need the credit card you used to reserve online and your ID…” The man clicked around on his computer. “I see we had a last-minute cancellation so there’s another riverfront cabin open with two double beds if that’s better for you boys?”

 

“Nope, what I reserved is fine.” Shiro kept his cool handing over his card but could see where the man’s thought process was going.

 

“OK…” The man studied Keith a bit longer, stalling with the card in his hand. “Are you the late arrivals for the high school wrestling retreat?”

 

“Um… no,” Shiro responded.

 

Keith butted in. “I’m not in high school.”

 

Shiro’s tone changed to the authoritative one Keith had only heard a few times. “Is there a problem?”

 

“No... Sorry. The... computer is a little slow.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes. “You sure it’s the computer?” he muttered under his breath to Shiro.

 

Shiro snorted.

 

Keith stared the man down a little more. “I’m gonna go smoke,” he huffed. Keith walked out as the flustered man quickly finished checking them in and showed Shiro a layout of the grounds. Keith was starting to understand Shiro’s initial reservations about starting their relationship and the looks they’d get with their age difference...

 

Keith followed Shiro to their cabin. It was mostly dark so Keith couldn’t get a good feel for their surroundings but he could see people gathering around fire pits outside of their cabins. Shiro dropped the bags once inside and flopped on the bed. “I’m wiped out… You hungry?”

 

“I saw a café in the lodge but I don’t want to deal with that guy again,” Keith responded.

 

“I almost strangled him. He relaxed when he looked at my ID. I think he assumed that I was a lot older or that you were a lot younger,” Shiro said as he glanced at his phone. “We could just get room service… cabin service. Whatever.”

 

Keith searched through the binder in the room for a menu. Shiro cursed and Keith looked over. “Everything OK?”

 

“I have two missed calls from Woolf, one from Moore, and one from Erikson. And a thread of fifteen group texts… Give me a second. I need to call Erikson back.” Shiro paced while the phone rang. “Hey, what’s up, you decided to finally have a party? Well, kind of last minute, I…” Shiro walked outside and paced on the porch but Keith could still hear. “You know I don’t look at my phone while I drive… I’m near Glen Canyon... Just north of the border in Utah… Yeah… No, Keith’s with me… Dude, you said no to a party all week, how was I supposed to know?... I’m sorry... I’ll take you out when I get back… OK… Later…”

 

Keith bristled as he listened to Shiro’s side of the conversation. “What’s up?” he asked as Shiro came back in. He looked worn out.

 

“Ugh, nothing. Erikson’s pissed I’m not around and they decided last minute to celebrate at Radio Bar. Whatever, let’s order some food, I’m starving.” Shiro took the menu from Keith while he sat on the couch and flipped the TV on.

 

Keith sat down next to him and tried not to make his pouting too obvious. He had wanted to immediately jump on Shiro the second they were alone in their room but Shiro was on edge and distracted. Keith would get turned down if he tried making a move right now.

 

Their food arrived and they ate while Shiro answered all the texts on his phone in addition to some straggling work emails. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Keith asked.

 

Shiro set his phone down. “Sorry… Um. I figured we’d get an early start and just hike around, find some cool places to swim. I made a few dinner reservations so that you can pick where we go. Then Sunday maybe just check out whatever we didn’t get to on Saturday and then we can hit up an IHOP or something on the way back so you can carb load on pancakes since I don’t make them the way you like.”

 

Keith smiled. “You didn’t have to do all this for me. But, thank you.”

 

“Of course, I wanted to.” Shiro smiled tiredly. He shifted to lie on the couch and put his head in Keith’s lap, letting out a huge sigh.

 

Keith contentedly carded his fingers through Shiro’s hair. “I don’t see a sleeping bag… I thought we were sharing,” Keith joked.

 

“I’m sure the guy at the front desk would be happy to get you one,” Shiro answered with his eyes closed. “Maybe he can dig up a cot somewhere while he’s at it. Actually that guy would’ve been most happy with twin beds on opposite sides of the room. Or bunk beds…”

 

“We should’ve asked for bunk beds,” Keith laughed, still playing with Shiro’s hair. “Top or bottom?”

 

“Bottom. My cousin’s kids have bunk beds at my aunt’s house. Those things seem dangerous.”

 

Keith smirked, working a little more obvious sexual innuendo into his bunk bed metaphor. “I assumed you were a top kind of person.”

 

“Not if there’s a chance that I’ll roll off and hurt myself.”

 

Keith had to hold in his giggles. “So you always take bottom.”

 

Shiro cracked one eye open and looked up at Keith. “Are we still talking about bunk beds?”

 

“No,” Keith admitted.

 

“Keith…” Shiro playfully scolded. “I mean, logistically you don’t need to be on top to…. Ugh, never mind…” Shiro turned so his back was facing Keith now.

 

Keith laughed louder. “You don’t have to be on top to what??” He poked at Shiro’s head to get him to turn around.

 

“Go to sleep.” Shiro smiled with his eyes closed, swatting at Keith’s prodding hand.

 

“Well, your head is so heavy that my leg will be asleep soon.”

 

Shiro just grunted and adjusted to get comfortable. Keith let the TV distract him as he absentmindedly played with Shiro’s hair. It wasn’t long before he recognized the steady rhythm of Shiro’s breath as he slept. Keith smiled and took in every detail of Shiro’s face: the subtle pulse of a protruding artery at his temple, the random grays in the stubble along his jawline, the unevenness in skin tone that could only be seen extremely up close; the imperfections making him even more perfect in Keith’s eyes. Keith was captivated and content to just run his hands through Shiro’s hair. He didn’t know what love was supposed to be like. He didn’t exactly have family or friends to set an example and didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he thought it would possibly feel something like this.

 

Keith startled awake an hour later with the TV and lights still on. He roused Shiro so that they could both relocate to the bed.

 

\-----

 

Shiro’s phone alarm went off at 5:30 A.M.

 

Keith grumbled, “Shiro, I swear to god…”

 

“Sorry,” Shiro apologized as he searched for his phone in the room.

 

“It’s my birthday, no waking up early…” Keith muttered into his pillow.

 

“I’ll be quiet…” Shiro whispered and then changed into workout gear and headed out the door.

 

\-----

 

The sunlight caused Keith to stir around 8:00. Shiro wasn’t in the room so Keith poked his head out the door and found Shiro sitting on the cabin’s front porch, drinking coffee. He turned and smiled. “Morning.”

 

“Hey,” Keith answered, rubbing his eyes. He looked out past the porch. “Holy shit.” The view from their cabin was stunning. A rocky beach with sparse desert greenery led up to a river, sun glittering on the current. Immense rock formations rose up beyond the water. “This is beautiful.”

 

“Yeah, we couldn’t really see much last night. Get ready so we can eat and head out. Oh, I grabbed you coffee while I was at the lodge,” he added, handing Keith a cup.  

 

“You worked out like a crazy person, didn’t you? Hiking all day doesn’t count as exercise for you??”

 

“The lodge has a nice gym.” Like that was a sane justification.

 

Keith shook his head. “I can’t even… No waking up early tomorrow, got it?”

 

“Got it, boss. Get your ass in gear so we can go.”

 

\-----

 

The boys set out hiking along the river, across ledges, scrambling up boulders. The red desert yielded enormous rock arches and pillars while the river and its waterfalls carved hundreds of small coves and inlets for exploring. After hours of hiking they came upon an empty swimming hole with a waterfall. Shiro started peeling off his clothes. “What are you doing?” Keith asked.

 

“I’m going swimming, you coming?” Shiro answered.

 

“Uh, it's cold,” Keith said, cautiously dipping his hand in the water.

 

Shiro jumped in. “Agh, shit it’s cold!” he shouted when he came back up above the water.

 

“See? Too cold for me. My balls will disappear.”

 

Shiro stood in the chest-deep water, smoothing his hair out of his face before wading towards Keith. _Damn, he looks gorgeous..._

 

“Keith, when is the next time you’re going to have the opportunity to swim under a naturally occurring waterfall... in the desert?! Get your ass in here or I’ll drag you in!”

 

Keith hesitated, but Shiro had a point. Keith slowly undressed and shuddered when he dipped a toe in. “Oh my god, I’m going to die. It’s so cold.” He watched Shiro approach in the water. “If you splash me, I’m breaking up with you,” Keith threatened.

 

Shiro just laughed and held out a hand. “Come on...”

 

Keith took his time to acclimate to the water. They splashed around and swam before Shiro dragged him under and behind the waterfall. Shiro pinned Keith against the bank and kissed his neck, running his hands under the water to Keith’s hips. As Shiro slowly continued to kiss up his neck, the contrast between warmth of his lips and the frigid water caused Keith to shiver. “Are you cold?” Shiro whispered into his ear.

 

“A little,” Keith admitted not wanting Shiro to stop but not wanting his toes to freeze off either.

 

Shiro wrapped his arms around Keith and held him closer. “Let’s get you out of here and in the sun, OK? We can go swimming later, I think the lodge’s pool is heated.”

 

The boys dried in the sun and then got dressed. Afterwards, they hiked a few hours more before making their way back to their room to swim in the pool. Thank god it was heated.

 

\-----

 

Shiro shaved while Keith showered that evening. “So, I made reservations at three places in town. There’s a restaurant in one of the hotels that’s supposed to have really good southwestern food, kind of a trendy place. There’s an Italian restaurant that has good reviews if you want something basic... Or…”

 

“Oh, jeez, what’s the third place? Something crazy...”

 

“Korean barbeque. I think you should try it. There’s all these private booths and there’s a grill built into the table and you grill your food. You get a ton of small dishes so you can try a little bit of everything. Kimchi will be present but I won’t make you eat it. I just feel like you should give your cuisine another try.”

 

Out of habit, Keith wanted to give Shiro a hard time about the Korean restaurant but it actually sounded pretty cool. He poked his head from behind the shower curtain. “OK, let’s do Korean barbeque.”

 

“You sure? It’s your birthday, you can pick whatever. I don’t want to sway you.”

 

“No, it sounds good.”

 

“Yes!” Shiro celebrated like a child, obviously happy that Keith went with his preference of the three restaurants.

 

\-----

 

They rode forty-five minutes into one of the nearest cities for dinner. Keith had never gone out to an actual dinner with Shiro; he wasn't sure the burgers that one day after sword lessons in the desert counted. The restaurant had wooden booths and side rooms crammed with large families. A cute Korean hostess greeted them. “Hwan-yeong!”

 

“Hi, reservation for two under Shirogane.”

 

“OK, you can follow me,” she said as she gathered menus. “Is your name Japanese?”

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it is.”

 

“I grew up in Seoul but Tokyo is my favorite city in the world. I love it there,” the girl made conversation as they walked to their table. She then looked at Keith. “You’re Korean?”

 

“Uh, half-ish. Do you have an Asian decoder or something? I can never tell what country other Asians are from.”

 

The girl laughed. “I can usually pick out other Koreans but it was just a guess. Plus, his name was easy,” she said, gesturing toward Shiro. “Enjoy your dinner,” she said, showing them to their table.

 

They sat adjacent to each other in their small corner booth. “Do you want bibimbap or do you just want to grill a ton of shit?” Shiro asked as he looked over the menu.

 

“Let’s just grill a ton of shit.”

 

“Done,” Shiro said, closing the menu and reaching for Keith’s hand under the table, interlacing their fingers. Their knees bumped. “You’re not too cramped, are you?”

 

“I should be asking _you_ that, you’re like two feet taller than me. I’m fine though, as long as you are.”

 

“I’m good. I’m _really_ good,” he said, squeezing Keith’s hand.

 

A server came by and took their order and they resumed their cute hand holding. It felt good not to hold back or see who was looking. They could just be themselves. When the server returned with their raw meats and banchan, she gave them instructions on how to use the grill and handed them their utensils. “The spoon is for your soups and rice. The chopsticks are for everything else. Enjoy.”

 

Keith shot Shiro a look. “The spoon is for the rice?!! What the fuck?”

 

Shiro threw his head back, laughing. “I didn’t know!!”

 

“No wonder it was so hard to eat with those things the other day, that was torture! You owe me a damn spoon. I’m disappointed in you, I thought you were the Asian expert.”

 

Shiro wiped tears away from laughing so hard. “Oh my god, that’s so funny. I’ll get you a spoon...”

 

“Damn straight you will,” Keith threatened.

 

They sampled the small dishes while their meats and vegetables grilled. Keith actually liked most of the things he tried; however, he avoided the kimchi and anything that resembled it.

 

Although the table was a little small given Shiro’s size, Keith really enjoyed the forced proximity. Their knees kept bumping and Keith eventually threaded his legs between Shiro’s. The crazed neediness he’d felt yesterday after not being around Shiro for several days came back as he thought about the king-sized bed they’d go back to later. Keith brushed along Shiro’s leg with his free hand and continued to eat as he ran his hand up and over to Shiro’s inner thigh.

 

Shiro shifted in his seat. “You better watch what you’re doing…”

 

“I know what I’m doing,” Keith shot back with a smirk.

 

“You’re supposed to be eating.” 

 

“I’m good at multi-tasking.”

 

Shiro tried to suppress his smile as Keith’s hand ran further up the inseam of Shiro’s pants. Shiro dropped his head into his hand with an exhale and Keith felt him harden under his touch. Now this was fun. Watching Shiro come undone in public.

 

Shiro swallowed. “Keith, seriously…”

 

Keith pretended like nothing was going on. “What? I’m just trying to eat some barbeque here.” He picked up a piece of grilled marinated pork off his plate and ate it with his fingers. He then slowly licked the sauce off each individual finger. Shiro’s eyes darkened while he watched, biting his bottom lip.

 

Keith smirked as his fingers traced around the mound of Shiro’s growing erection. Shiro’s hips instinctively raised into his touch. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to have to drag you off to the bathroom,” Shiro groaned.

 

The server came by. “How’s everything here?”

 

Shiro cleared his throat. “Good. Fine. Ah, thanks.” He ran his hand over his face and took a deep breath. Keith was loving this.

 

“I’m just going to leave a dessert menu and I’ll be back with some tea.”

 

“OK, thanks,” Shiro exhaled and swallowed again. And then Keith squeezed. “Oh god,” Shiro whispered, dropping his forehead back into his hand. “Keith, you need to stop… You want dessert?”

 

“I want _you_ for dessert,” Keith answered.

 

“Fuck… Seriously, no cake or anything?”

 

“Nope, just you.”

 

Shiro groaned again as Keith started massaging his hand in a circular motion. Shiro finally grabbed Keith’s hand to stop him. “If you want to make it back to your king-sized bed then you need to stop because I am not walking out of here with a massive hard-on.”

 

Keith pretended to pout. “OK…”

 

Shiro paid their bill and they walked towards the exit, hand in hand. “Wajwoseo gomawo,” the hostess waved.

 

“Kamsahamnida,” Shiro returned.

 

“Oh, very good!” the hostess exclaimed with surprise.

 

“That's the only thing I know how to say,” Shiro admitted with a smile.

 

“Was that Korean? You're making me look bad,” Keith joked.

 

The hostess laughed and looked down at their interlaced fingers. “You two are so cute. Have a good night.”

 

“Oh, I will,” Keith said quietly to Shiro.

 

Once they were outside, Keith pulled Shiro against the building and reached up to draw Shiro’s head down for a kiss. He immediately curled his tongue into Shiro's open mouth.

 

“Come on, I just got myself calmed down,” Shiro half-complained. He tugged Keith off the building and put his arm around his shoulders to lead him to the bike. Keith leaned into Shiro’s solid warmth and smiled. He couldn’t wait to get back.

 

\-----

 

The boys parked the bike at the lodge and held hands through the parking lot. They passed the man from the front desk as he was getting into his car. Keith winked at him and smiled smugly as the man watched them walk to their cabin, hand in hand.

 

As soon as they walked in the door, Shiro instantly pushed Keith onto the bed and climbed over him like prey. “Think you're cute messing with me in the restaurant?” Shiro mouthed at Keith's neck just below his jaw, his knee in between Keith’s legs.

 

“Yeah, I do,” Keith said as he bucked his hips up into the muscle of Shiro's thigh for friction. Shiro groaned as he grazed his teeth down the ribbed cartilage of Keith’s throat before pulling the neckline of Keith’s tee to the side to lick along his collarbone.

 

Shiro sat up to unbutton his shirt and moved his leg to straddle Keith. Keith watched him hungrily, angling his hips up again causing Shiro’s head to roll back. “Hang on…” Shiro said and shifted his weight in order to stand up and take off his pants while Keith slid his own off and down his legs. Shiro climbed back onto the bed and pulled Keith to sit upright, stripping his shirt off.

 

Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro’s neck and pulled him down on top of him. Their teeth collided as they kissed sloppily, both too needy to care. Shiro broke their kiss with a wet sound. “I can’t wait to suck you off again.”

 

“Actually… _I_ want to do it... Um...” Keith moaned and rocked his hips again, breathlessly trying to spell out what he wanted to do. “I want to do it to you….”

 

Shiro smiled into the crook of Keith’s neck, whispering in his ear. “I don’t know if I can allow that. It’s _your_ birthday.”

 

“And I get to do what I want. I want your cock in my mouth.”

 

“Oh god…” Shiro drove his hips into Keith’s at the thought. “I mean, ah… Shit. If that’s what you want to do...”

 

“That’s what I want to do.” Keith was nervous but he loved the power he had over Shiro in the restaurant. He wanted that power again. Shiro was always in control and Keith wanted him to lose it, wanted to be the reason for him to lose it.

 

Effortlessly, Shiro flipped them over so that Keith was on top. Keith pulled Shiro’s black boxer briefs down his muscular legs. He wrapped one hand firmly around the base of Shiro’s erection and Shiro moaned in response, giving Keith more confidence. Keith leveraged his weight with his other arm near Shiro’s shoulder and leaned down to whisper. “Um, so. I’ve never done this before so, uh… Just so you know.”

 

The realization and ecstasy that crossed over Shiro’s face was totally worth the mild embarrassment Keith felt after his confession. “Keith...” He swallowed. “Are you sure?”

 

“Yeah.” Keith did not hesitate.

 

“OK. Shit. OK.” Shiro ran his hand over his eyes as his usual dirty talk evaded him. “I’ll um… I’ll tell you when I’m close, OK?”

 

“Why?” Keith questioned.

 

Shiro blinked the sex out of his eyes as he attempted to speak coherently. He propped himself up on his elbows. “Keith, I almost vomited the first few times I… swallowed. It takes a while to get used to that, OK? It’ll feel good for me no matter what so… don’t do anything you don’t feel ready to do, OK? And if you want to stop halfway that’s fine too. All right?”

 

Why was Shiro so fucking sweet? “OK…”

 

Shiro pushed himself upright to brush Keith’s hair out of his face and kiss him gently, cupping his jaw. Keith leaned his full weight forward to push him back down onto the bed. He kissed Shiro’s mouth one last time before moving down his torso, noting how his trailing hair left goosebumps in its wake. Shiro grasped at Keith’s hair and entangled his fingers at his roots, gently stroking with his thumb.

 

Keith wrapped his hand around Shiro’s length and pumped his hand a few times, listening to Shiro’s shaky breaths. OK, he could do this: hand job plus his mouth. Right? Keith kept stroking and then put his mouth just around Shiro’s head, experimentally sucking and then popping it out of his mouth. The sound was obscene. But Shiro’s moan was more obscene. Keith kept a slow pace with his fist, looking up at Shiro: eyes closed, chest heaving, hips trembling to keep them in place. Keith licked at the clear liquid accumulating at the slit. It was salty and sweet. Keith licked his lips when he saw Shiro open his eyes to steal a glance. “Ugh, Keith… I’m… shit... You’re driving me crazy,” Shiro finally managed to say.

 

Keith ran his tongue up his length, exploring each muscular rib and throbbing blood vessel. He opened his mouth over the head again and followed his hand down Shiro’s length. He pulled up quickly when he felt himself come close to gagging, noting the distance and trying to stay within that boundary. Keith tried to breathe through his nose which helped lessen the gagging he felt each time he came down. _How the fuck did Shiro make this look so easy?_ His eyes had started watering and his jaw already felt a little stiff from holding the same open position. He took his mouth off Shiro to rest his jaw.

 

“Feels so good, Keith,” Shiro encouraged, stroking Keith’s hair.

 

Keith pumped his fist a few times before diving back down quickly with his mouth, picking up the pace. “A little slower,” Shiro murmured. Keith obeyed and Shiro praised, “Fuck… that’s perfect.” Shiro’s pelvis twitched to minimize the convulsions that threatened his body. “Keith…” he groaned. Keith maintained a steady rhythm, trying to think of what else he could do. _What else would feel good?_ Keith opened his mouth a little wider to let the saliva drip in rivulets over his hands and down Shiro’s cock. “Shiiiiiit,” Shiro responded. Letting his saliva dribble out actually helped with the gagging as well. He then flicked his wrist on the upstroke, Keith’s personal favorite when he masturbated. Shiro moaned again. “Oh, shit,” he mumbled. “Your mouth is so perfect.”

 

Keith remembered how it felt when Shiro had moaned around him so Keith moaned his response to Shiro’s praises. “Oh, Keith…” Shiro sobbed. Keith’s untouched erection was leaking a puddle of precum in his underwear and he wasn’t in the best position to achieve any sort of friction. Which gave him another idea…

 

He straddled Shiro’s leg and ground his arousal into the damp fabric and hard muscle, moaning around Shiro’s length again.  “Fuck! Keith...I.... I’m close Keith… oh god, I’m so close…” Keith bobbed his head a few more times before Shiro’s hand held Keith’s head up to keep him from going down again. Keith pumped his fist one last time and watched Shiro’s come spill over his hand. Shiro’s breath shook with each convulsion that wracked his body. “Shit, Keith,” Shiro finally said in a normal voice as his body relaxed. He ran a hand through his hair and over his face as he propped himself up, attempting to slow his breathing.

 

Shiro pulled Keith up and kissed his swollen lips. He palmed at the damp fabric clinging to Keith's erection and Keith couldn’t suppress the moan Shiro elicited. “Are you all wet from making me come?” Shiro asked.

 

Keith's cock throbbed at the question. “Yeah,” he answered into their kiss.

 

“Am I allowed to return the favor?” Shiro asked, teasing, groping.

 

Keith nodded.

 

\-----

 

“What should we do before we go?” Shiro asked as they cuddled in bed the next morning. “We could hike some more, swim in the pool… do you want to get a massage?”

 

“Massages are kind of odd for me. I don't like people touching me like that, I don't know… I'm weird.”

 

“Hmmm. You don't mind when I touch you like that,” Shiro teased, groping at Keith's ass under the covers.

 

Keith giggled. “You’re different.”

 

“I'll give you a massage…”

 

“Do you ever just sit and do nothing?”

 

Shiro laughed. “We'll do whatever you want to do.”

 

“I want you to lay in bed with me and stop thinking of shit to do. Now cuddle me,” Keith demanded.

 

Shiro laughed harder, squeezing Keith and kissing his temple. “Happy Birthday,” he whispered. Keith smiled and closed his eyes. This was the happiest birthday he'd ever had.

 

Eventually Keith allowed them to get out of bed so that they could eat breakfast on the porch while taking in the view. “I still want IHOP, on the way back,” Keith reminded Shiro.

 

“You’re going to eat pancakes twice in one day??” Shiro questioned Keith’s logic.

 

Keith pointed at Shiro with his butter knife. “Don't come between me and my refined carbs, OK?”

 

After breakfast, they set back out into the park to locate the warm springs marked on the trail map. And Shiro stopped at IHOP on the drive back to the Garrison.

 

\-----

 

On Monday night Keith went to Shiro's as usual. Shiro had bought Keith a small cake since they had skipped dessert at the restaurant and a spoon that matched the sterling chopsticks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know why I've been doing “come” and “precum” but now i’m just doing it to be consistent… or inconsistent? consistently inconsistent?
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!! <3


	19. That's called a one-night stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this scene written for a while and finally i can post it!!!  Heres a little drama for ya...

Keith and Shiro quickly fell into an unspoken schedule. Monday was always rice at Shiro’s, Wednesday usually held a flight sim practice after class, Friday was movie night and take-out followed by Keith crashing at Shiro’s for most of, if not all of, the weekend. Keith started bringing his laptop and he would study on weekends while Shiro caught up on work. Sometimes Shiro would show him a few new attacks or katas with the swords.

 

\-----

 

The Sunday before summer quarter midterms, Keith was on his laptop preparing for exams on Shiro’s couch. Flight classes just had specific flight tests so that was easy; he really just had to study for Astronomy and Navigation. Shiro was on his laptop on the kitchen island while they listened to a playlist they'd curated together, consisting of artists like the Kills, Joy Formidable, and Mogwai; modern enough for Keith but “rock” enough for Shiro. Although Keith had admin rights and had to approve of the songs Shiro added.

 

“So, I still don't get this true-versus-false multiple quasar thing…” Keith fished for help. “How the hell do we see multiple false quasars? Our cameras just suck?”

 

“Well it's just how our cameras take the images. If there's a galaxy interfering with the curvature of light from the quasars then we see multiples when there's just one behind the galaxy. It’s gravitational lensing. What we _don't_ understand are the effects of dark matter.” Shiro answered nonchalantly without interrupting his work.

 

“So the gravity is refracting the images and the cameras pick up the multiple images.…” Keith reasoned.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Why doesn't Dr. Andrews explain it like that?”

 

Shiro shrugged. “To make you miserable.” Just then, a notification pinged on Shiro’s computer. Shiro's steady typing rhythm slowed. “Oh my god.” Shiro laughed excitedly. “Keith, I got picked for the Kerberos navigation challenge!”

 

“That’s awesome!” Keith got up to read the message Shiro had just received. He wrapped his arms around Shiro's neck and kissed him on the cheek. “Congratulations. Like you didn’t think you’d at least get that far… How many other pilots?”

 

“Three others. One captain, two senior captains. They’ll announce it tomorrow and the challenge will be a week from Monday. I need to prepare more.”

 

“You have your face buried in a deep space pulsar map everytime I see you. You could probably draw the pulsar network in your sleep. Anyway, don’t stress about it now. We should celebr-” Keith was cut off by Shiro’s phone ringing. He stole a glance at who was calling: Erikson.

 

Shiro kissed Keith on the mouth. “Sorry, hang on,” he apologized before answering his phone. “Erikson, you asshole. How long have you been holding out on me?” Shiro laughed. “No wonder I haven’t heard from you… I know you’re terrible at keeping things to yourself… I was excited for about 2.5 seconds and now I’m anxious… Yeah. OK… Wednesday? Yeah, it would help if I could see the setup in advance... That would be amazing... Thank you… Yeah, thanks again. OK, bye.”

 

\-----

 

Keith received the announcement on Monday.

 

For immediate release:

The Galaxy Garrison officially announces the pilot navigation challenge for the Kerberos Mission. Four pilots have been invited to participate in a challenge that simulates manual deep space navigation with technology in offline mode. Scoring of the navigation challenge is a critical component of the pilot selection process for all deep space missions.

Participants:

Senior Captain Alexander Rivali

Senior Captain Octavia Schiller

Captain Zavier Walsh

Captain Takashi Shirogane

All press inquiries are to be directed to the department of Aviation and Aeronautics press secretary Lieutenant Jesper Erikson. Students, faculty, and officers are permitted to attend the challenge on Monday, 18th of August at 11:00.

\-----

 

Keith finished his astronomy midterm on Wednesday. Relieved but unsure of how well he did, he walked out into the hallway and saw Shiro waiting for him as usual. Erikson and Medina were with him this time.

 

“Hey Rookie,” Erikson greeted with a tired smile. “Astronomy and Navigation midterm?”

 

“Yeah, I’m brain dead right now.”

 

Erikson winced. “That class was murder for me back in the day.”

 

“How’s the secretary thing going?” Keith asked.

 

Erikson huffed and dropped his head against the wall. “Ugh, most days it’s manageable. I got massacred today, though. That’s kind of why I’m here. I’m taking Shiro to the auditorium so he can see the challenge setup and then I was going to drive us all to the coffee shop in town; I desperately need caffeine to replete my energy levels. Maybe even a beer after…”

 

Keith snorted. "Chasing an upper with a downer sounds like a wise choice.” 

 

“I'm just here for moral support,” Medina chimed in.

 

“Want to tag along?” Shiro asked Keith.

 

“My treat,” Erikson added.

 

“Sure…” Keith said.

 

They strolled over to the aviation auditorium which was under construction for the challenge. Erikson walked Shiro though the setup: four pods would face each other on a circular stage. Screens would hang overhead to maintain each pilot's stats and progress for the audience.

 

“They're turning this into a bigger and bigger production each time they do this.” Shiro shook his head as he looked at all the additional seats surrounding the stage.

 

“They like for the students to attend, gets them excited and inspired,” Erikson explained. “Setting it up as a competition draws more press, too. Anyway, the pods will be finished with the latest updates by tomorrow so the pilots can spend time here over the weekend.” Shiro nodded and paced the stage, furrowing his brow.

 

“You coming on Monday, Keith?” Erikson asked.

 

“I don’t know... Do you mind if I watch, Shiro?”

 

Shiro smiled. “I don't know, I might get performance anxiety,” he said with a flirtatious wink.

 

Keith snickered and Erikson raised an eyebrow. “Actually, you guys face away from the audience and are behind soundproof one-way glass so, you won't really know who is and isn't here that day,” Erikson pointed out. “Uh, so...You good, Shiro? You boys ready to go? I need some sugar and caffeine before I fall asleep… or die. Whichever happens first.” He sounded exhausted.

 

Medina was already dozing in one of the auditorium seats. Erikson kicked his seat, startling him awake. “You didn't even do anything today and you're the one sleeping.”

 

They piled into Erikson's car, some sort of old-school BMW. “So, why was the meeting today so terrible?” Shiro asked from the passenger seat.

 

“We had an interview with some of Northern Arizona University’s faculty for a research project they're doing with the International Coalition for Sustainable Aviation. Some shit about how we and other agencies measure up against environmental policy and how we offset our carbon emissions. Shit that would've been better suited for engineering, but you know, throw me to the fucking wolves. This one grad student was grilling me about fuel efficiency and all kinds of shit I couldn't answer. He was such a smug little bitch,” Erikson vented while he drove. “It was a miserable interview.”

 

They parallel parked on the brick street and walked into the café. They all ordered iced coffees except Erikson’s had a double shot of espresso. Shiro plugged away at a few work emails on his phone while they waited at the pick-up counter. “Oh, hell no,” Erikson complained. “Fucking college students and their damn wifi…”

 

“Why you hatin’ on wifi?” Medina teased. Keith laughed at Medina. Really, he laughed at everything Medina said; the guy was fucking hilarious. Not bright… but hilarious.

 

“That grad student is here, typing up his shitty little report…” Erikson scowled toward the front door. “I bet he's not even waiting for me to follow up next week, that arrogant little…” Erikson's grumbling trailed off into unintelligible curses under his breath.

 

Keith and Medina craned their necks to catch a glimpse at the current bane of Erikson's existence. Keith was a little surprised. The guy had deep obsidian eyes and chewed on a pencil between jotting down notes and typing on his laptop. He had a similar build to Keith and his black hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of his head, bleach blonde ends streaking the knot of hair. He had on an impeccably tailored dark blue suit and a pale lavender shirt that complimented his medium brown skin tone. He looked southeast Asian, possibly Filipino… Keith was bad at guessing national origin. The boy was also very obviously gay in his mannerisms and Keith assumed that was why Erikson didn't like the guy.

 

“Don't make eye contact,” Erikson hissed. “He’ll eat me alive.”

 

They collected their caffeinated beverages and walked toward the front door. Erikson tried ducking behind Medina but Keith watched as the boy looked up and narrowed his eyes. A sly smirk slid across his face.

 

“Lieutenant,” the boy in the suit crooned.

 

“Fuck,” Erikson cursed under his breath and then quickly composed himself. “Mr. Paras… writing glowing reviews after our all-too-short conversation earlier?” Just a touch of sarcasm.

 

“Nothing but the best for my faaaavorite Galaxy Garrison employee.” The boy's smile was almost evil as he stood to meet Erikson eye to eye, crossing his arms. He obviously got off on making guys like Erikson uncomfortable.

 

“I think I'm the only Garrison employee you know…”

 

“Well then, I wasn't implying much, now was I?” He stared with his dark eyes shining.

 

 _Ouch_ … Keith smiled to himself. Fuck Medina, _this_ guy was funny. Keith could actually be friends with this guy. He looked up to see if Shiro was as amused by their interaction, but Shiro's face was still buried in his phone. Keith shrugged; he was missing out on some serious entertainment.

 

“Mr. Paras… it’s Julian, right?” Erikson tried to go personal. “I'll consult the-”

 

“My _friends_ call me Jules. _You_ can keep calling me Mr. Paras,” the boy interrupted, keeping his smile plastered to his pretty face. He then craned his neck to look past Erikson. His game face faded quickly into surprise. “Superman??”

 

Out of the corner of Keith’s eye, he saw Shiro look up and then freeze. “Shit...” he breathed.

 

The boy in the suit, Jules, regained his composure. “Nice to see you, too…” he deadpanned.

 

Intrigued but trying to downplay the mounting tension, Medina joined in. “Shiro, how do you know every Asian in Arizona?”

 

Erikson's brain started catching up. “Wait… you two _know_ each other?!”

 

Jules snorted. “If you consider buying someone a drink, pounding them in the ass, and not leaving a phone number before sneaking out in the morning as ‘knowing’ someone… then, yes. We know each other. _Quite_ well.”

 

Silence.

 

The only thing Keith heard was the pounding of his heart, deafening in his ears. Keith looked over at Shiro: eyes wide, chest rising with shallow breaths. Keith didn't know what to think. His concern about how Erikson would take this revelation overshadowed Keith’s knee-jerk jealousy.

 

Jules continued, empowered by the group's obvious shock. He took a step towards Shiro and read his Garrison ID. “And you're a _pilot_ … Well,” he sighed nonchalantly, “at least you didn't _lie_ about your name…”

 

For some reason, they all looked to Erikson. Waiting for his reaction.

 

Erikson looked over to Shiro and then back to Jules, expression difficult to decipher. And then Erikson scoffed. “Mr. Paras...that's called a one-night stand. Sounds like you need to get over it. Or get in line, my friend here is a very busy man.”

 

Jules gave Erikson his best ‘bitch, excuse me?’ look.

 

Keith was shocked as Erikson coolly looked back to his friends. “You ready boys? Mr. Paras, I'll email the information I promised to you early next week.”

 

Erikson casually strolled out, followed by Medina and Shiro. Keith lagged behind, making eye contact with Jules as he walked out. Jules’ deep eyes bored into his.

 

They took no more than five steps onto the sidewalk. “Jesper…” Shiro breathed.

 

Erikson paused and slowly turned around. “Sorry man, I know you can stick up for yourself but that guy was being such a little prick… I just can't handle that personality type.”

 

“I…” Shiro struggled to find words.

 

Erikson spoke quietly, “It's alright, man. I… wish you would've told us. I'd feel shitty if it was because you didn't feel comfortable saying something. You don't need to hide shit from us, man. We love you no matter what, OK?”

 

Shiro nodded, eyes welling up. Erikson pulled him into a hug. “Thank you,” Shiro whispered.

 

Medina, of course, was the one to break the gravity of the moment. “Aw, bring it in, guys, group hug. You too, Keith,” he called. They all laughed as Medina squeezed. “Shiro, does this mean we can play ‘It's Raining Men’ every time you walk into a room?”

 

Shiro laughed. “What?! No!”

 

“Like, just _one_ day, please?” Medina pleaded.

 

“I'd pay to see that,” Keith laughed.

 

The broke their embrace, Erikson and Shiro wiping their eyes. “Oh, shit,” Erikson sighed. “So, I don't want to sound ignorant or anything but are you like one hundred percent gay, or like, I don't know, pansexual? Bisexual? You're going to need to make me a study guide or some shit…”

 

“Uh, I was pretty much bisexual, but, um, more gay tendencies lately. It's kind of hard to label…” Shiro looked over at Keith and smiled. “So, uh -”

 

“Where did you _meet_ that character?” Medina interrupted.

 

“Um...” Shiro laughed and rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. “The… gay bar… There’s a few in Flagstaff.”

 

Medina’s mouth hung open. “You're like a double agent, man. What the fuck? Are you seeing a guy right now? Sorry I'm bombarding you with questions.”

 

Erikson looked at Keith. “You two are… together, right?”

 

Shiro reached for Keith's hand and smiled dumbly. “Yeah…”

 

Medina of course, interjected again. “Whoa, wait… _What?!_ Shiro, you're like a cougar!”

 

“Medina, I'm not a forty-year old woman!” Shiro laughed.

 

“Still… Am I that oblivious? How long have you guys been seeing each other?”

 

Shiro shrugged. “Month and a half?”

 

Erikson looked between both boys. “That's it? What took you guys so long?”

 

Keith smirked and nodded towards Shiro. “Talk to this guy. He's the one with the issues.”

 

“Oh, whatever.” Shiro pinched the back of Keith’s arm.

 

Erikson smiled. “Look at our group diversifying. I'm happy for you guys… you obviously clicked from the beginning.”

 

“Thanks. That… means a lot.” Shiro sounded relieved.

 

Medina herded the group together again in his arms. “I think this calls for alcohol. I'll call Moore and Woolf.”

 

“I have so much prep to do for the navigation challenge,” Shiro said. “I have a conference call with the other pilots and the challenge moderator in an hour. And I need to... talk to Keith… We’ll do something after the challenge is over.”

 

\-----

 

Keith and Shiro walked into Shiro’s place after Erikson dropped them off. A weird, silent tension was building. “All right… I'm sure you have questions…” Shiro faced Keith, standing in the middle of the living area.

 

“Uh…OK...” Keith didn't know where to start. “Was he _just_ a one-night stand?”

 

“Yes. That's it.”

 

“How long ago?”

 

“You and I knew each other but weren't together yet, so, probably two and a half months ago,” Shiro estimated. Keith felt hurt but knew he couldn't be mad. It’s wasn’t like Shiro had cheated on him. “I was kind of going crazy being around you…”

 

“So you fucked another guy…”

 

“It was a stupid move. I'm sorry. I don't have a good explanation.”

 

“I mean, I can't really be pissed, so… Whatever. You just never… um… ask me about... that.” _You know. THAT_.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Keith licked his lips nervously. “Um… like. You know.  You've never brought up... anal… sex..” There. He said it.

 

Shiro looked pained. “Keith, that's a really intense experience, especially if you've never done it before. You need to be sure you're ready for something like that. And you need to lead up to it. You've never said anything so I assumed you weren't ready. And it's _OK_ if you're not ready. It's not something to rush.”

 

“But it's OK to do with the random guy from the bar?”

 

“It was a completely different context. It was purely physical-”

 

“You don't need to shelter me, Shiro. I want to do it but...”

 

“Keith, don't just say that because you feel like you need to keep up with… other people I've been with.”

 

“I'm not trying to keep up with anyone. I feel like there's stuff you like to do that you're just keeping away from me. Don't treat me like a kid, Shiro. I know I don't have… like, experience or whatever but… I want to try stuff if you like it… I don't want you to get bored and have to go look for boys at the bar.”

 

“That's not at all how it is, Keith. I've been trying to rein things in, we started fast. I told you that…” Shiro walked up to Keith and held Keith’s head to brush his thumb along Keith’s cheekbone. “I could never be bored with you. Being the first person to do these things with you, is like… I can't even handle it sometimes. I go crazy thinking about it. I'm very lucky to be with you. Don't _ever_ think you're boring. And sex doesn't define a relationship… There's so much more to it than that. OK?”

 

Keith gave Shiro a hesitant smile. “OK… thanks.” He gave Shiro a small kiss. “How much time do you have before your conference call?” he asked, hungrily running his hands up Shiro's chest.

 

“Not enough,” Shiro said, prying Keith’s hands off of his body. “Sorry.”

 

“OK.”

 

“I was thinking, instead of going to the bar next week, we could have everyone over here for dinner. Think you could help me cook?”

 

Keith giggled. “Yeah, I'll help you throw a ‘coming out’ dinner party.”

 

“It's not a coming out party.”

 

“Kind of…” Keith teased.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ellipsis… glorious ellipsis…
> 
>  
> 
> So in trying to find a traditional filipino surname, i liked the way Paras sounded AND (per random website) it means “hot taste” in Kapampangan which is a regional language of the Philippines. Haha.


	20. We still have plenty of time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I don’t know much about space and stuff but in episode 1, season 1, they’re on the blue lion and they’re way out of the solar system and Shiro says that he doesn’t recognize any of the constellations. Which i just took for face value, whatever. But when I was writing this story, I started thinking about how you wouldn’t be able to navigate visually by constellations in space because the actual 3D positioning would be different depending on where you are than just from being on earth. So then i got sucked into googling pulsar navigation… So this is super simplified and I made up other stuff that i thought would be legitimate challenges to navigating space. But who knows, this could all be complete crap that I came up with. I don't think Neil deGrasse Tyson is among the readers here to tell me this is BS but if anyone knows more, please enlighten or correct me and I'll update.
> 
> This is half Keith POV and half Shiro POV.

Keith sat bored in his dorm room on Saturday. It was the first weekend he’d spent in his dorm room in almost two months. Shiro was busy preparing for the navigation challenge. Per Shiro, he wouldn't be fun to be around; he’d either be studying or clearing his head by destroying a punching bag at the gym.

 

Keith surfed the web on his laptop, wishing he knew what porn site he’d seen on Shiro's tablet. Although, it wouldn't be difficult to find something similar… Shiro wanted Keith to figure out what he wanted, right? Although, porn probably wasn't what Shiro had in mind.

 

\-----

 

Keith checked the time during Independent Flight on Monday: it was 11:15. The challenge had already started. Actually, the whole class was antsy and finally Commander Rahman caught on. “OK, guys, I’ll let everyone out early to watch the navigation challenge. Just give me another fifteen so we can review the maneuverability issues from the last scenario.”

 

After class, Keith moved with the mass of students to the auditorium. Erikson waved to Keith while he finished an interview outside the main entrance. All of the seats were full so Keith lined up along the back of the auditorium with the rest of his class. Keith looked up at the stats on the screens; Shiro was way ahead of the other three pilots. Keith tried to see into Shiro’s pod from all the way in the back. He was moving quickly, manually entering navigation points with purpose and confidence. Keith smiled at how sexy and in control he looked. _Yep, that’s my boyfriend._

 

Erikson walked by and grabbed Keith. “Rookie, I saved you a seat up front.” He motioned down the aisle. Keith followed Erikson and noted the stares he received from his classmates.

 

Keith sat between Moore and Erikson; Medina and Woolf were a row behind them. Erikson leaned over to whisper to Keith, “If Shiro keeps up this pace, he’ll beat the deep space challenge record by a long shot. He’s on fire, it's unbelievable.”

 

Keith watched as the pilot next to Shiro flipped between star charts, trying to apply 2D representations into the 3D challenge on the sim screen in front of him. The pilot got frustrated and cleared the screen of the triangulation coordinates he’d just entered.

 

The audience was supposed to remain quiet but everyone's voices got louder and louder with enthusiasm as Shiro pulled further ahead. Moore nervously tapped his fingers on his knee and pulled out his phone. “What if he doesn’t get the next two problems? I can’t remember the stupid Friedmann Equations and I’m not even the one in the pod being scrutinized.” He started researching on his phone.

 

“He’ll be fine…” Erikson reassured.

 

“What’s wrong with the next two problems?” Keith whispered.

 

“They put two really tricky situations towards the end to see how badly it trips up the pilots and how well they recover. It’s the first time they’re requiring manual calculations like these but it’s more realistic, especially if the navigation system was actually down while in space. The first one is to calculate the margin of error of the pulse arrival times because the pulsar they’re presented with doesn’t quite match up to the data tables onboard the ship. So if they’re not careful, they could pick the wrong pulsar and think that they’re way off course.”

 

“And then you could just start turning the ship in circles because what you’re seeing doesn’t match up to where you think you are and… I... don’t think I can watch…” Moore started rambling.

 

“Dude, relax,” Erikson whispered over Keith.

 

“Shit…” Moore breathed out. He then looked at Keith, “Oh, by the way. Um… congratulations? Is that what I say? I don’t even know… I’m happy for you? Does that… How about that?”

 

Keith chuckled, “Uh, thanks. You _do_ need to relax.” Keith held his breath as he watched Shiro slow his coordinate entry. He paused and double-checked his maps. Clearly deep in thought, he drummed his fingers on the dash. Keith wondered if it was "War Pigs" or "Electric Funeral" that was going through his head right now. _Why the hell do I know so many Black Sabbath songs?! When did that happen??_ Shiro bobbed his head to whatever song was in his head and then dug around in a secured compartment for a pencil and started running his calculations.

 

Keith looked over to Erikson who was nodding his head. “He’s got it…” Erikson said confidently.

 

The screens overhead maintained stats on how many problems were cleared and if the pilot was on the correct path or not. The numbers on the screen faded to yellow and then red the further the pilots went off course after each coordinate entry. Shiro entered his coordinates from his manual calculation and Keith watched his overhead screen remain green. The buzzing in the audience grew despite the moderator’s signal for silence. Keith startled when Medina pounded the back of his seat, letting out an enthusiastic “Fuck yeah!”

 

Keith stifled his laughter. “Medina!” Erikson hissed, turning around. “...fucking caveman,” Erikson cursed under his breath.

 

“So what’s the next problem?” Keith asked, also anxious despite Shiro’s insane lead.

 

Erikson leaned over. “So, essentially we have satellites that have mapped this pulsar network for us but our data has to be updated to account for expansion of the universe depending on the last time it was mapped, particularly if the pulsar is a stellar outcast because it’s not being held by a galaxy’s gravitational force. So the pulsar coordinates for the next problem are not where they’re supposed to be based on the paper records that would be onboard the ship. They have to calculate accelerated expansion of space to get the pulsar’s actual location.”

 

Keith watched as Shiro stopped again and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. Keith leaned towards Erikson to whisper, “Does he know how far along the other pilots are?”

 

“No. But accuracy is more important than speed,” Erikson said.

 

“Yeah, but if it slows him down too much then he won’t beat the record,” Moore rebutted.

 

Shiro flipped through more charts and then started his calculations. It took a while; Keith felt like he’d held his breath for a full ten minutes watching Shiro scribble his calculations and cross-check the coordinates. He then slammed his pencil down and quickly entered the coordinates into the navigation system. They all looked up and his screen remained green. This time the auditorium cheered and more people crowded in to watch Shiro. Medina nervously pounded on the back of Keith’s seat. Woolf attempted to calm him before Erikson lost his shit and scolded him again. Moore continued to fidget on Keith’s left.

 

After the slowdown from the prior problems, Shiro resumed his breakneck speed with more determination. The sound from the audience got louder; Shiro moved faster. They watched as Shiro’s screen suddenly went blank. He’d finished.

 

The moderator met Shiro at the entrance of the pod. He exited and made a surprised face as he saw how packed the auditorium was. The students cheered. He shook the moderator’s hand and then approached a desk to shake each commander’s hand that oversaw the challenge. The moderator quickly showed Shiro his stats. Shiro then looked up to the audience of students, officers, and faculty. He flashed them his winning smile and waved before being escorted off stage.

 

Keith smiled. What was the word for beyond liking someone but too soon to love them? Or too soon to call it love? Why wasn’t there a word for that? That’s what Keith felt. Pre-love? Shiro was unreal and he never ceased to amaze Keith. He wondered if he could ever possess Shiro’s charisma and poise. Sure he could fly, but all the other things? The knowledge, the certainty, the ability to inspire… Keith was a natural-born pilot but Shiro was a natural-born leader.

 

“Fucking crowd pleaser…” Erikson laughed. He checked the time. “Aaaaand... that’s a record.”

 

“I have an erection,” Medina blurted. “Oh, shit, Keith. You... know… you know what I mean. I’m just joking...”

 

Keith laughed. “It’s all good.”

 

“Medina!” Woolf reprimanded.

 

“What? I can get a metaphorical hard-on from my friend being epically awesome, OK? Keith… Keith gets it. Right? It’s OK…” Medina reasoned. Keith laughed harder at Medina’s bumbling. “Gilipollas!” Medina cursed in Spanish at his friends.

 

“Tranquilo, Medina. Calmate,” Erikson said with terrible Spanish pronunciation. Then to Keith, “Sorry, we need to rewire our vocabulary a bit… Bear with us.” Keith smiled. They were all trying…

 

\-----

 

Keith anxiously picked at his lunch before his next class, wondering when he’d hear from Shiro. He wondered if they’d still be able to do rice tonight...

 

\-----

 

Around 14:00, Shiro received the official call from Commander Holt. His excitement and probably a little bit of pride overshadowed his reservations about the expedition’s planning. He quickly accepted the position as pilot of the Kerberos mission.

 

He had to call Keith; wait, he was still in class. He had to call his mother; wait, she was sleeping. He had to call his aunt, but not right now. He had to be at the announcement party at 17:00. His formal uniform needed to be dry-cleaned. _Can you dry-clean a suit in three hours?_ He hadn’t eaten. He had to pee. Erikson was calling. He declined the call, he needed to get moving.

 

\-----

 

Shiro hated these events. Just because he was good at these types of social situations didn’t mean he liked them. He was tired of smiling, shaking hands, saying thank you, laughing at bad jokes. Thank god Erikson was there to bullshit with when he needed a break.

 

Shiro grabbed an hors d'oeuvre from a tray that went by and watched as Commander Holt approached, family in tow. Time for his game face again....

 

“Commander Holt,” Shiro greeted him with a handshake.

 

“Captain Shirogane. How are you holding up?”

 

“It’s been a crazy day but doing well. Matt, congrats man.” He patted Commander Holt’s son on the shoulder. He was announced as lead scientist today as well. The crew for Kerberos would only be three people which meant that they had heavily relied on Shiro’s proposal with its liberal usage of gravity assist to justify the smaller crew size. It also meant that Matt Holt would be taking on comm spec duties and Shiro would be taking on some of the mechanics and engineering duties.

 

“You remember my wife, Colleen.”

 

“How could I forget? Lovely to see you again.” Shiro smiled cordially.

 

Mrs. Holt smiled and shook Shiro’s hand. “I’m counting on you to bring my men home safely, Captain.”

 

It had to be difficult for her to let half of her family travel into space for a full year. “I’ll get them back to you safely. You have my word,” Shiro said.

 

“And this is my daughter, Katie.” Commander Holt pulled an introverted girl with light brown hair from behind him.

 

“Katie, nice to meet you. I hear you’re quite the computer whiz.”

 

Katie smiled hesitantly, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “Um, yeah. I guess. Thanks. Nice to meet you, too.”

 

\-----

 

Shiro dragged himself home, completely exhausted. He powered on his phone and checked the time: 22:00.  His parents would be up by now… He was hungry and tired and couldn't figure out what to do first as he walked up the stairwell to his apartment.

 

There were a few texts from Keith... Shit. He'd meant to call him earlier. It was stir-fry Monday… Shiro felt bad about having missed their Monday tradition. He called Keith back and listened to the phone ring as he unlocked his door and...

 

_WHAT. THE. HELL?_

 

Keith was sitting cross-legged on Shiro’s couch as he answered his phone. “Hello. Nice of you to call. Thanks for thinking of me,” Keith said sarcastically into his phone without breaking eye contact.

 

Shiro stood and stared dumbfounded. He hit end call on his phone. “Keith. How… How the hell did you get in here?”

 

“You really should deadbolt your door. The lock was easy to open with my ID.”

 

Shiro looked down on the coffee table at Keith’s mangled ID card. “You… _broke_ into my apartment?” Shiro tried to keep his cool but... what the fuck?

 

“You didn't call! I had to find out you got Kerberos from the fucking Garrison email announcement!”

 

“So… that warranted breaking and entering?! Did you think I was napping the rest of the day and ignoring your texts?!”

 

“I was upset! I overreacted...” Keith’s glare faltered. Shiro could tell he wanted to stand down but his stubbornness had taken over. How long had he been sitting there waiting?

 

“Do you honestly think I'd ignore you like that? Without a legitimate reason?” Shiro questioned Keith’s judgment.

 

“No… I dont know…”

 

“Keith, I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you in person or at least over the phone. This… clearly affects both of us. And the one moment I had time to myself, you were still in class. I haven't eaten, I'm exhausted. I haven’t even told my mom yet. And… you broke into my damn apartment. Seriously?!” _OK, reel it back in, Keith gets defensive and then shuts down..._

 

“You didn't have a _single_ second at the party?”

 

“My phone was off, I was busy. I didn't have a lot of time to think.” Shiro felt awful. How did this slip through? Was he that brain dead?

 

“Too busy to think about me? To even send a text like, ‘hey fyi, I'm the fucking Kerberos pilot, hooray. I'm fucking... _leaving_ you in a few months…’” _So that’s the real issue,_ Shiro thought. Keith’s voice wavered and then the fight trailed out of his voice. “I'm sorry I broke in. I do stupid shit when I'm mad.”

 

Shiro let the breaking and entering go with a deep breath. “I'm sorry, too. Today was crazy and I wanted to tell you in person but you're right, I should've sent you a text at the very least. I didn't forget about you, the day just got away from me...” Shiro slowly knelt on the floor in front of Keith and reached for his hand. He was relieved when Keith didn't pull away. “There’s absolutely no way I can forget about you, I really… care about you.” _Really care? Is that adequate?_ _Why, in god’s name, is there no word in the English language to bridge this gray area we’re in?_   “And I'm not… abandoning you, but you knew what Kerberos entailed. It's a yearlong mission…”

 

Keith nodded silently. “Sorry… Congratulations,” he mumbled.

 

“Thank you...” Shiro whispered, bringing the back of Keith's hand up to his lips. He knew that getting this position was going to be bittersweet. Shiro looked at the time. “You want something? I'm going to make some food, I haven't eaten.”

 

“OK…” Keith whispered. “I couldn't eat earlier.”

 

“Too busy planning your break-in?” Shiro quietly laughed. “You’ve obviously done _that_ before.”

 

Keith looked down and shook his head. “Not _your_ place. Other places… yes…”

 

“Well, did you at least find something you were looking for?” Shiro probed.

 

“I just sat here and brooded,” Keith said.

 

Shiro cocked an eyebrow. “So, you didn’t find the handcuffs in the nightstand?”

 

“Dammit, I was so pissed, I didn’t think to go through that drawer,” Keith joked.

 

“I don’t know if I believe you. Every time you’re in my bedroom, you look at that drawer like you could conjure X-ray vision if you stared at it long enough,” Shiro teased.

 

Keith tried to hide his embarrassment. “No I don’t. Are there really handcuffs in there?”

 

“No,” Shiro admitted, then started snickering. “I've known you for almost five months and in that time you've stolen my hoverbike and broken into my apartment.”

 

Keith tried to suppress his laughter. “I don't know why you keep me around… I'm kind of an asshole.”

 

“I like having you around.” He intertwined their fingers and kissed the back of Keith’s hand again.

 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Keith barely whispered.

 

“We still have plenty of time…” Shiro lied.

 

He supposed that he'd save the news of his plans to go to Japan for different day. Training was about to get intense and the next few weeks would be his only opportunity to see family before the mission. However, he couldn’t bear to cause Keith more pain tonight.

 

Shiro made dinner and they ate in silence, just trying to take in the other’s presence, understanding how limited their time was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for the love


	21. Watch your mouth before I...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro POV
> 
> another warning for a homophobic slur about 1/3 into the chapter

Sitting at his desk Wednesday morning, Shiro clicked “purchase” on a flight to Japan departing next week. He then picked up his phone to call Keith and prayed that this would go over well.

 

“Hey,” Keith answered.

 

“Morning. What are you up to?”

 

“Walking to class. I have Co-pilot Assisted Flight this morning.”

 

“Oh, right. How’s it going with your new co-pilot partner?”

 

“Ugh, Ed Vargas… He’s a piece of shit. I can’t stand him. Luckily we rotate next week. Are you still able to do a sim practice with me later?”

 

Shiro chuckled to himself; Keith just did not play well with others.  “I wish I could. I’m slammed with training in the morning and meetings all afternoon. I’ll keep you posted in case a meeting gets moved but... I called to let you know that… um, I’m going to Japan soon so that I can visit family before training really gears up for Kerberos.” _Please don’t blow up…_

 

“Uh... I guess that makes sense. When are you leaving?”

 

“Monday.”

 

“ _This_ Monday?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“How long?”

 

“Two weeks…”

 

Silence. _Please don’t get mad…_

 

Shiro heard Keith take a deep breath and exhale into the receiver. “OK… I mean, you gotta do what you gotta do...” Keith sounded reluctant.

 

“Yeah. OK, thanks for understanding. I just wanted to let you know in case we can’t meet up later. Oh, another thing, you should invite Celine to come over Friday.”

 

“Yeah, OK, I’ll text her, I’m sure she won’t turn down an invitation to her first gay dinner party.”

 

“It’s not a dinner party… It’s just a slightly more civilized get-together than what our friends are used to. Anyway, I”ll let you get to class. Have a good day.”

 

“Thanks. You too.”

 

\-----

 

Shiro was exhausted from training in zero-G most of the morning with Matt Holt. He was sitting at his desk, reviewing the technology updates being installed on his ship in preparation for a meeting with his engineering team. The flight department secretary interrupted his focus, poking his head into Shiro’s cubicle. “Hey, Iverson is looking for you.”

 

 _Odd…_ Commander Iverson was in charge of mission control and all ground operations so it was a strange that he'd want to see Shiro since Shiro technically reported to Commander Holt. Although, Holt reported to Iverson...

 

Shiro knocked on Commander Iverson’s office door. “Come in,” he heard Iverson growl, which tended to be his normal tone of voice.

 

Shiro saluted as he entered. “Sir, you wanted to see me?”

 

“Close the door, Shirogane.” Shiro obeyed. This didn’t sound good. “Do you know third-year cadets Kogane or Vargas?”

 

 _Oh shit, what happened_? “Yes sir, I know Kogane, heard of Vargas.”

 

Iverson handed Shiro a piece of paper. “This is a copy of the incident report from their fight earlier today. Your name was mentioned during the altercation.” Shiro raised his eyebrows and glanced down at the report while Iverson continued. “I don’t know how ‘well’ you know these boys but I can’t have the names of my Kerberos crew being thrown around during student scuffles, especially with the context Vargas ‘implicated’. This could be bad press in no time, Shirogane. I can’t risk rumors with this mission after it failed to get off the ground in the past.”

 

Shiro skimmed the beginning of the report:

 

Recounted by witnesses: Commander Wilson and Cadets Nowak, Tam, and Jessup.

Vargas: I’d be as good as you if I was up all the officers’ asses. I bet you suck cock for private lessons, don't you, you little faggot? I hear you're always around the junior officers’ block. Who do you whore yourself out to?

Kogane: Shut the fuck up, Vargas.

Vargas: Who’s the lucky officer? Captain Boggs? Hamilton? Oooh, I bet it's Captain Shirogane.

Kogane: Watch your mouth before I fuck it, straight boy.

 

_Yikes…_

 

“I know kids like to trash talk, but if there’s a modicum of truth to what is in this report, Shirogane, then you need to avoid this kid like the plague until Kerberos. The press loves a scandal; if any of this leaks, I will not be happy. I will _not_ hesitate to expel either of those cadets _and_ put you on standby crew, Shirogane, got it?!”

 

Shiro tried to slow his heart rate. “Sir? There _is_ no standby crew…”

 

“You’re right. But you _do_ have an alternate. I’m sure Senior Captain Rivali would _kill_ for the opportunity…”

 

“Sir, not having a standby crew is against Ethics Policy 5 Section 2.3-”

 

“I’ve updated policy for deep space missions. Dismissed.”

 

“But there was never a meeting to motion a policy revision.”

 

“Captain, your life is at risk every time you step outside your front door, get in a car, board a plane. By applying for deep space missions and accepting the position as a deep space exploration pilot, you are assuming a certain amount of risk. It’s common sense. Dismissed, Captain.”

 

“But the protocol to revise policy-”

 

“DISMISSED, SHIROGANE!”

 

Shiro backed down. “Yes, sir.” He walked out of the office, defeated but fuming. He turned down the hall and headed straight to Erikson’s office.

 

“What’s up?” He vaguely heard Erikson’s greeting. Shiro walked past the large desk over to the couch against the back wall and punched it as hard as he could. “What the… please don’t break my office!” Erikson piped. “I finally get an office and you’re breaking it… What’s wrong?”

 

Shiro huffed and flopped on the couch. “Keith punched some kid who was trash talking me and now Iverson’s furious and up my ass about it.”

 

“Go Keith! I bet he's scrappy as hell.” Erikson’s laughter faded as he read the annoyance on Shiro’s face. “Iverson’s a cranky old bastard. You know that…”

 

“Did you know he revised deep space ethics policy to eliminate rescue and extraction crews?”

 

“No… aren’t we supposed to vote on that during department meetings?”

 

“Apparently he has ‘divine authority’… And he’s threatening me so his mission doesn’t look bad because he’s a paranoid, closed-minded, homophobic, little...” Shiro swallowed the rest of his rant.

 

“Look, man, you and Keith just need to lie low, that’s all.”

 

Shiro rubbed at his temple. “Where’s the flight school principal’s office?”

 

“Third floor.”

 

“Thanks... Still coming by Friday?”

 

“Yeah. Do I need to bring like a... dessert or casserole or some shit?”

 

Shiro snorted. “No… Although, I should say yes just to see what you show up with.”

 

“I don't even know what a casserole is,” Erikson laughed.

 

“You don’t even know how to turn on your oven, do you?”

 

“Shhh… I used it once. I think…”

 

Shiro smiled. “Don’t hurt yourself. Just bring alcohol.”

 

“Right. Better to hurt myself during, not before, your dinner party.”

 

“It’s not a dinner party.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Erikson waved his hand, returning his focus to his computer.

 

“All right, well… thanks for letting me vent. Sorry... about the couch. I think it’s fine,” Shiro said, poking around at the frame.

 

He walked out and down a flight of stairs through the flight school department. Outside of the nurse’s office, Shiro spotted a big, brawny-looking student with a black eye swollen shut, an ice pack in hand, and a handprint around his neck. Shiro smirked and made sure his boots echoed off the walls as he walked with a little more authority. The sound caught the student’s attention and he slunk against the wall when he recognized Shiro.

 

“Cadet Vargas, I presume...” Shiro greeted with a glare. “Thank you for dragging me into your petty nonsense. As if I have nothing better to do,” he said with as much disdain as he could conjure while he crumpled the report in his hands. The kid looked like he might shit his pants but Shiro walked past when he spotted Keith’s profile in the next room.

 

Shiro turned into Keith’s holding room and held his finger up to his lips as a signal to Keith. For show, he shouted, “Goddammit, Kogane!!” and slammed the door. Then in a normal tone, “Seriously, what the hell?”

 

An unused washrag sat in a bin on the side table next to Keith. Shiro pulled up a chair and picked up the washrag to dab at the dried blood under Keith’s nose. “Did the P.A. look at your nose? It doesn’t look broken, but just to be sure…”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Keith,” Shiro groaned, “what the hell happened?”

 

“That kid just kept running his mouth, Shiro. I just… I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped.” There was still residual fury burning in Keith’s eyes.

 

“Yeah, I read.” Shiro paused from wiping Keith’s face to uncrumple the report. “And I quote ‘...watch your mouth before I fuck it, straight boy…’”

 

Keith snorted. “I thought that was a good line.”

 

Shiro chuckled. “Keith... sometimes you just need to be the bigger person. Stop and think first. Was your pride worth a week of suspension? You know you get zeros for all your sim scores during that period, right?”

 

“Shit…” Keith cursed.

 

“Look, Commander Iverson’s not happy that my name came up in all this. We just need to be… extra cautious now. OK? We can’t be seen together too much or else he’ll throw me off of Kerberos and he could have you expelled. Probably a good idea to come with Celine on Friday so you're not seen coming in and out of my building alone all the time.” Shiro finished cleaning the blood off of Keith’s face. “Is everything OK?”

 

“Yeah…” Keith responded. Shiro wasn’t convinced.

 

“I'm sorry, there's a lot going on for you, right now... Well, for both of us.”

 

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to get involved with this.”

 

“Don't apologize, it's not your fault. I mean, you might need to apologize to that kid,” Shiro gestured toward the door. “This is… just a... difficult point… This isn't going to be easy for either of us, Keith. But I don't want all this to affect your grades, and your career, and your future… Think about the consequences first and channel your energy into making yourself better than people like that. Because you are.”

 

Keith nodded.

 

“I need to run to another meeting but I'll find the P.A. on my way out. I'm going to shout and slam the door again when I leave, FYI.”

 

Keith laughed quietly. “OK.”

 

Shiro walked to the door. “I swear to god I've had it with your bullshit!” he over-acted, slamming the door behind him. He looked down at a trembling Cadet Vargas, ice pack dripping in his hand. Shiro spoke in a low but threatening tone. “If I hear that my name has come out of your mouth ever again, I don't care if it's a goddamn compliment, your ass will be in Iverson’s office instead of the principal’s and a week's suspension will be the _least_ of your worries. Check your facts before you start rumors about officers…” The edge left Shiro’s voice. “And holding the ice pack like that isn't doing anything for your eye, Cadet.” Shiro took the ice pack and carefully repositioned it for Vargas.

 

“Uh… thanks?” Vargas looked confused but relieved.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 spacedad


	22. I want to do more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My smut is always preceded by fluff… and many ellipses. ellipsi?  
> serious smut warning for the end. Seriously, I don't recommend reading it if you're at work

Keith and Celine knocked on Shiro’s door Friday evening. Shiro opened the door with a smile. “Hey, guys!” He gave Celine a kiss on the cheek and Keith a small kiss on the lips. “How’s your nose?”

 

“The throbbing stopped yesterday morning. It’s been fine today, only hurts if I sneeze.” Keith dropped his bag in Shiro's room and then walked into the kitchen.

 

“Thanks for inviting me,” Celine said.

 

“Of course, thanks for coming!” Shiro replied.

 

“So, you putting us to work or what?” Keith asked.

 

“Well, _you’re_ chopping vegetables, we can’t make our guest work.”

 

“That’s BS,” Keith joked, picking at the ingredients that were already chopped.

 

“I don’t mind helping,” Celine chimed in. “I did however, bring some cookies for dessert.”

 

“Since when do you bake?” Keith asked.

 

“I don’t. In Composite Materials Lab they pair us up with second-year mechanics for mentoring. My partner this week was this guy, I don’t know his actual name, everyone just calls him Hunk. I think he’s Hawaiian. He’s really sweet and as a ‘thank you’ he baked me _four_ _dozen_ cookies! They’re _so_ good but I don’t want to eat them all by myself and gain ten pounds.”

 

“They look good...” Keith snuck a cookie without Shiro seeing. He knew he’d get the ‘you’ll spoil your dinner’ line.

 

“Can I use your bathroom, Shiro?” Celine asked.

 

“Yeah, door on the right after the kitchen,” Shiro gestured.

 

When Celine was out of sight, Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro and trailed kisses under his jawline. “Hi."

 

“Hi. How’s suspension treating you?” Shiro asked.

 

“Mind-numbingly boring.” Keith leaned against the counter.

 

“Who’s supervising you? Drill Sergeant Phillips?”

 

“Yeah. I just read a bunch of disciplinary articles and shit.”

 

“That’s weak… I’d make you work if I were your suspension Drill Sergeant.”

 

“I think I might like that.” Keith smirked, running his hands up Shiro’s arms. “I kind of liked when you were pretending to be all authoritative and angry on Wednesday....”

 

Shiro looked mischievously over at Keith but shrugged his wandering hands off. “I’m cooking...”

 

Keith pouted and rested his chin on his hand, gazing up at Shiro through his eyelashes. “But I think I need to be disciplined...”

 

Shiro glanced over again with that familiar darkness clouding his gaze. “I'll deal with you later…” his voice rumbled with want. Keith’s cock twitched at the sound but was brought back to reality when he heard the toilet flush. Shiro nudged Keith away with his hip and in a normal voice said, “Now, chop that garlic.”

 

“Yes, sir…” Keith joked, pulling his hair into a ponytail and washing his hands. Celine refused to not contribute to dinner so she and Keith sat at the kitchen island helping Shiro cut vegetables for a salad.

 

“You still talking to little Woolf?” Shiro asked Celine.

 

“Not really. He got the job at Boeing so he’s staying in Seattle permanently. Long-distance relationships are too much work for me. Seattle’s too far…” Then she looked between Shiro and Keith. “Although…” _Kerberos is further._ “...you guys would be the ultimate long-distance relationship....”

 

Keith looked up at Shiro and his heart ached, “Yeah…” Their eyes met and Shiro gave him a knowing look with a subdued half-smile. _Does it count as a relationship if you can’t communicate whatsoever?_

 

Shiro interrupted Keith’s internal dialogue. “Keith. You got music?”

 

“Yep, on it.” Keith wiped his hands and browsed his phone for a playlist he’d put together over the week. Mostly The Smiths, Cure and OMD with some Chromatics and Beach House to modernize the mix.

 

System announced visitors after a half-hour and Keith answered the door to let Erikson and Woolf in, bearing alcohol as promised. “Let me see that nose, Rookie.” Erikson inspected Keith’s face. “There’s not a scratch on you!!”

 

“Yeah, but you should’ve seen the other guy,” Shiro bragged.

 

“Vargas won’t even make eye contact with me in the suspension room,” Keith laughed.

 

Woolf greeted Keith with his standard, “Prodigy!” and a half-hug. He paused to listen to the music playing in the background, “Thank god you’re in charge of music around here.”

 

“It took a while to get him out of his comfort zone…” Keith grinned.

 

“Screw you two!” Shiro called from the kitchen.

 

Woolf laughed and then gave Celine a hug as well. “I didn’t know you were going to be here. Are you being nice to my little bro?”

 

“He’s the one staying in Seattle, he’s not giving me much to work with here...” she defended.

 

Medina arrived a while later. “I brought arepas!” he proclaimed, holding up a covered plate.

 

“Look at you!” Shiro said with surprise.

 

“Not as good as my abuela’s but I’m getting there. I couldn’t let you be the only fancy one here.” He paused and inspected Keith’s face as well. “What the fuck? Your nose isn’t even messed up!”

 

“It’s not broken,” Keith laughed.

 

“I was hoping for some proper battle scars,” Medina joked, punching Keith lightly in the arm.

 

Moore was the last to arrive, holding a plastic bag Keith recognized from the Asian market in town. “What’s up, Prodigy?! Shiro, I need to get this shit in the freezer, STAT.”

 

Shiro peered into the bag. “You bought mochi?!”

 

“Yeah. I didn’t know what to bring and I didn’t want to buy some random dessert that clashed with whatever food you were making, so… The girl in the store told me to bring mochi.”

 

“Excellent, thanks,” Shiro rearranged his freezer. “Alright guys,” Shiro announced, “As you can see, I do not have a large table so we’ll be eating Japanese style on the floor at the coffee table. Hope no one minds.”

 

“Shiro will force his Japanese traditions on everyone, I’m warning you guys,” Keith called out.

 

“As long as I don’t have to use chopsticks.” Medina looked nervous.

 

“Then you’re going to starve,” Keith joked.

 

“Keith, stop scaring them. I have standard, Western utensils for those who require them. So we’ve got salad, fried shishito peppers, seared flank steak with Japanese-style chimichurri, rice… obviously.”

 

“This is insane.” Erikson looked sufficiently impressed. “I didn’t know you cooked like this.”

 

“It’s pretty awesome,” Keith smiled at Shiro.

 

“Come to think of it, you look like you’ve put on a few pounds,” Erikson poked Keith in the stomach as he squeezed past him into the kitchen. “Shiro, we need glasses. We’re doing a toast first.”

 

The group situated themselves around the table. Keith never realized that the table had a compartment underneath, storing flat pillows to sit on. Erikson and Woolf had brought some sort of fancy scotch whiskey and Erikson poured and distributed glasses. “OK, who’s starting?” he asked.

 

Medina spoke up first. “OK, first, I just want to thank Keith for taking Shiro out of the dating pool and significantly improving my odds at the bar now.” The group laughed, Shiro blushed.

 

“Hell, yeah. Good call,” Moore and Medina fist bumped across the table. “Although your odds will always be low. Shiro’s absence can’t help your disagreeable personality,” Moore teased.

 

Woolf chimed in next, “Yeah, I’ll cheers to that. Also, to fucking _rocking_ the navigation challenge. You’re a talented son of a bitch. And apparently you can fucking cook. I’m feeling a little inadequate over here...”

 

Erikson raised his glass. “I know, right? OK, so thanks, Shiro, for having us all over, this looks amazing. Congratulations on Kerberos. And… to Keith and Shiro. I don’t know what to say, um... I guess thanks for being comfortable with telling us. I’m happy for you guys. _We’re_ happy for you guys.” Keith looked around and the rest of Shiro’s friends nodded in agreement.

 

Shiros squeezed Keith’s hand. “Thanks guys. It’s been a relief that everyone’s been so supportive. Sorry I kept it from you all for so long. Although, it’s taken a while for me to even figure myself out so…”

 

“To Shiro,” Keith raised his glass.

 

“To Keith _and_ Shiro,” Celine smiled, bumping Keith’s shoulder.

 

“You guys are like the power couple of the Galaxy Garrison,” Medina laughed.

 

The group clinked the glasses of whisky and started eating. “I always suspected that Moore knew…” Shiro pointed suspiciously. “I just don’t know how…”

 

Moore smirked. “I think it was probably the _last_ time you had whisky…”

 

“When he passed out in the bathroom at Radio Bar?! That was years ago,” Woolf added.

 

Shiro put his head in his hands. “Oh jeez. On second thought, I don’t think I want to hear this.”

 

“Too late!” Keith laughed. “I live for embarrassing Shiro stories!”

 

Moore laughed. “As do I. OK, so, you guys remember Paula from when we were in flight school? I think she’s an officer in the Air Force now. So, we were celebrating end of summer quarter at the bar and her boyfriend was up from Texas, visiting. We’d already made Shiro take like, three shots. I was trying to find him for the next round and I turned a corner... and he was making out with _both_ of them. So I was like, OK… maybe Shiro swings both ways. But you never said anything so I didn’t either...”

 

Shiro blushed while the group laughed. Erikson’s eyebrows were raised and he looked surprised. “Wow, I don’t even know how that works logistically but… OK.”

 

Keith laughed and needled Shiro in the ribs with his finger. “Did you have a threesome?” he teased.

 

“No… stop. I passed out shortly after,” Shiro murmured, embarrassed.

 

“I remember hauling your ass out of the bathroom,” Medina laughed.

 

“Um, I remember dragging your drunk-ass home not too long ago,” Shiro retorted.

 

“OK, OK. Truce.” Medina stood down. “This steak is fucking awesome, by the way.”

 

The group shared a few more funny Shiro stories for Keith’s listening pleasure before the conversation transitioned. “OK, Shiro. So we’ve got three months. What do you want to do before you leave?” Moore asked.

 

“When I get back from Japan we should do a road trip to San Diego so we can go to the beach for a long weekend. I’ll probably visit my aunt and cousins in Fresno later this fall. Other than that, just making sure I hang out with everyone and eat enough of the food I’m going to miss…”

 

“Ugh, freeze-dried food. I hardly made it on the routine trip to Mars last year.” Woolf made a disgusted face.

 

“So, I’d totally drive to San Diego but I don’t think we’ll all fit in my car. Moore, can we take your soccer-mom van?” Erikson teased.

 

“Fuck you. Not everyone gets a fancy BMW hand-me-down from daddy,” Moore shot back.

 

“That rusty piece of shit? Hardly fancy. It’s old as hell.” Erikson tried to downplay his family’s wealth that was apparently common knowledge.

 

“So Moore, you’re cool with driving to San Diego?” Shiro asked, filling everyone’s sake glass except his own after they were mostly done eating. “Oh, and Erikson, can you take me to the airport on Monday?”

 

“Yeah, no problem.”

 

After finishing her rice, Celine started digging her cigarettes out of her bag. “Wanna go smoke?” she asked Keith. Keith nodded and stood up with her.

 

“Mind if I bum one off you?” Erikson asked.

 

“Ooh, me too!” Woolf added himself. “Let’s take the fire escape stairwell to the roof.”

 

“I always go downstairs. Why didn’t you tell me about the roof?” Keith asked Shiro.

 

Shiro looked at Erikson and Woolf. “Because you’re not supposed to be up there… I can't believe you two are going to smoke,” he criticized.

 

“Whatever, Dad,” Woolf called as they walked out.

 

The desert nights were only comforting in August. It was the only time of year the nights weren’t frigid. Woolf and Celine chatted at one corner of the roof away from Keith and Erikson. Erikson took a nice long drag out of his cigarette. “Ugh, I miss these,” he reminisced, watching it burn down. “How’s all this Kerberos shit treating _you_?”

 

“I don’t know. I feel like a countdown has started… And I can’t remember what it was like before I met him.” Keith ignored the pained look he received from Erikson.

 

“Where are you originally from?” Erikson asked.

 

“Random ‘burbs of LA. Foster homes, shit like that…”

 

“Gotcha. Families aren’t all that they’re cracked up to be, anyway,” Erikson said.

 

“Yeah? What’s your story?” Keith was intrigued.

 

“Not much of a story. Second youngest of four, grew up in Massachusetts, only one in three generations that didn’t go to an Ivy, trying to claw my way to success the only way I know how so that I can measure up in some way to the rest of the fam. Typical rich white kid issues…”

 

Keith nodded. “Fuck-ups unite.” He mockingly held his fist in the air. That scenario suited Erikson and his pretty blonde hair well for some reason. “So, tell the truth… You didn’t like me at first, did you? I don’t know if you like me now, actually.”

 

“I like you now; you’re cool, Shiro’s really fucking happy. You’re right, though. I didn’t like you right off the bat. Not because of the… sexual preference thing. It was a... petty jealousy thing. My friend just started hanging out with this new person all the time. You know?”

 

Keith could… actually appreciate Erikson’s honesty. “Yeah, I hear you.”

 

“I'm also realizing that maybe I don't know Shiro as well as I thought… We told each other everything when we were sixteen but… life happens… People change, friendships evolve...” he shrugged.

 

Keith nodded and then smirked. “Well, I didn’t like you either, if it makes you feel better.”

 

“Ha. No, it doesn’t, but I understand.” Erikson admired his cigarette more. “OK, one more question… how old _are_ you?”

 

“I turned eighteen last month.”

 

“You're older than most third years, then. OK. Still a hell of an age difference…”

 

“Yeah... That was Shiro's main issue at the beginning.”

 

“It’s weird how at our age, five or six years can be huge but once you’re forty it’s not a big deal. And when you’re eighty it’s totally negligible.” Erikson looked over to Woolf and Celine. “You two ready?” he called over and the group headed back down from their smoke break.

 

Upon reentering Shiro's apartment, Keith was intercepted by Medina at the door. “Hey, how do we override Shiro’s home OS?” He had the closet door open and was looking at the system’s router and cylindrical hard drive.

 

“We can’t or, at least, I don't know how. I used to mess with him but he turned the sensitivity up so, it doesn’t respond to others’ voices anymore.”

 

“Damn... I’m going to bring in the expert.” Medina snuck off. He gestured at Woolf to distract Shiro and brought Moore over.

 

“What’s up?” Moore whispered.

 

“Can you hack this?” Medina asked.

 

“To do what?”

 

“I just want to play a song for Shiro…” Medina snickered. Keith tried to hold his laughter in, knowing which song Medina was thinking of.

 

Moore smiled, “That’s easy enough. It’ll just take longer with my phone, I didn’t bring my laptop.” Moore went to work and five minutes later asked with a smirk, “Requests, dedications?”

 

The three peeked around the corner to watch Shiro’s reaction as Medina’s request of “It’s Raining Men” came on. Moore was even able to fade the prior song right into the chorus of the requested song to skip the drawn-out intro.

 

“What the… No…Just... Wha- Seriously?!” Shiro looked around for the culprits as they collapsed to the ground with laughter. Shiro walked over to Moore, Medina, and Keith, crossing his arms and standing over them. “I should’ve known better than to get _you_ three together with alcohol…”

 

Moore stood up and turned off the song, wiping tears out of his eyes. Medina complained as he got up, “But wait, Village People are next!”

 

Shiro laughed and shook his head. “I can never go to Radio Bar again with you. You’re going to torment me with these ridiculous songs.”

 

“You’ve been tormenting us for years,” Medina retorted.

 

Shiro pulled Keith off the floor. Keith giggled and wrapped his arms around Shiro’s neck while Shiro murmured into Keith’s hair, “...Always getting into trouble.”

 

Keith looked up and Shiro’s face was flushed pink and warm from the alcohol. “Look at your face! You _do_ turn red!” Keith laughed and kissed Shiro’s embarrassed smile, vaguely aware of the audience that was trying not to watch but seemed intrigued at the same time.

 

“System, play Jefferson Airplane,” Shiro called out and was met with a resounding, “No!!!”

 

\-----

 

They finished the bottle of whisky and two more bottles of sake as they arranged their road trip to the beach to coincide with the days off prior to finals week. After that, Moore left and stumbled to his apartment in the building next door, followed by Erikson and Woolf who went out of their way to walk Celine back.

 

Medina lived further off campus and had driven over. “Medina, you can just crash here if you want. The couch isn’t too bad to sleep on,” Shiro offered. Keith watched Shiro try to blink focus back into his eyes.

 

“No‘m good,” Medina slurred, already half-asleep on the couch.

 

“Just leave him, he’ll be fine.” Keith’s head was also slightly spinning from overindulgence. Shiro made Keith drink a large glass of water before letting him crawl into bed.

 

“I think that went fairly well…” Keith heard Shiro’s voice mostly as vibrations in his chest as Keith curled into Shiro’s warmth in bed.

 

“Everyone’s been surprisingly cool. Erikson and I even had a heart-to-heart on the roof.”

 

Shiro chuckled, “That’s cute.”

 

Keith uncurled and looked Shiro in the eye. “I missed you.”

 

“I’m right here.” Shiro’s voice was barely audible as he stroked Keith’s cheek with his thumb.

 

“I’ve hardly seen you in the past two weeks.” Keith moved even closer to kiss Shiro. Shiro automatically opened his mouth for Keith; however, Keith sensed Shiro’s lack of energy. Shiro would've pulled Keith closer into him by now and his usually deft and wandering hands idly held Keith’s waist. “Too tired?” Keith asked.

 

Shiro hummed lazily into Keith’s mouth, “We have all weekend…”

 

“I want to do more,” Keith whispered.

 

“I know…” Shiro whispered back, closing his eyes.

 

\-----

 

Keith awoke in a mild fog around five in the morning. Shiro’s room was just barely starting to brighten from the first lights outside. Keith contemplated turning Shiro’s alarm off but didn’t know how to override the facial recognition security lock on his phone. He stretched and decided to get into the shower before Shiro woke up.

 

Keith let the hot water clear his head as he washed himself. He liked using Shiro’s shower, mainly because the residual scent from the products reminded him of Shiro for the rest of the day. He brushed his teeth and towel-dried his hair before crawling back into bed naked, hair slightly damp. Keith felt a little timid about “doing more” but he tried to quash his anxiety as he admired a peacefully sleeping Shiro and lazily touched himself. His warm blood slowly made its way down toward his groin while he waited for Shiro.

 

Shiro’s alarm went off at 5:30. He dismissed the alarm and rolled over to face Keith, eyes slowly drifting closed before snapping open when his brain registered the sight before him. Keith smiled and positioned himself to open his legs wider to give Shiro a better view.

 

“What are you doing?” Shiro smiled as he stretched.

 

“Waiting for you…” Keith stroked himself with an unhurried pace. He leaned in to kiss Shiro.

 

Shiro groaned and mocked Keith, “I have morning breath.”

 

“I like your morning breath.” Keith bantered, imitating Shiro’s deeper voice.

 

Shiro laughed into his pillow and let his left hand wander up Keith’s thigh. The simple touch made Keith dizzy with anticipation. Shiro then pushed himself up to sit. “Give me a minute,” he said as he hurried to the bathroom. Keith continued to move his fist over his length slowly.

 

When Shiro returned, he remained standing at the side of the bed and towered over Keith. “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself…” his voice dropped an octave. Keith grinned and removed his hand, holding it up, surrendering. Shiro continued, “You’re going to come when _I_ want you to come.”

 

 _Oh god._ Keith’s anxiety was already out the window. “What am I allowed to do?” he asked propping himself up on the bed and reaching up to pull at Shiro’s underwear.

 

Shiro smacked Keith’s hand away. “I didn’t say you could touch,” he said slowly stripping off boxer briefs. “On your hands and knees,” he commanded.

 

 _Shit. OK. Shit..._ Keith obeyed. Goosebumps followed Shiro’s touch as he ran one hand up the back of Keith’s thigh. He sensed Shiro kneel at the side of the bed and lean in to kiss up the sensitive skin where his hand had just been. “Down on your forearms,” he commanded again.

 

Keith felt obscenely exposed at this new angle. He felt Shiro kiss his way up the back of his other leg to Keith’s ass cheek. He removed his hand and then paused. Keith startled as Shiro spanked him once. _Smack._ In a normal tone he said, “I will stop if you tell me to stop, OK, Keith?”

 

“OK...” So, _this_ was happening...

 

“Now, tell me what you did this week. You’ve been _very_ bad,” Shiro voice growled deeper and darker again.

 

“Ah, I ...broke into your apartment.” Keith stated as his heart continued to pound. He felt Shiro’s hand leave his right butt cheek and connect with the skin again with a loud smack. Keith’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

 

Shiro’s hand softly ran circles over the stinging skin. “What else…” he prompted.

 

“I got into a fight.” Another _smack!_ Keith’s cock throbbed as he groaned.

 

Shiro leaned in to kiss where his hand had just been. His hand softly ran up and down the back of Keith’s thigh again. “Anything else I should be disciplining you for?”

 

 _Um…_ Keith couldn’t think of anything. “I don’t think so… Sir,” he added for good measure.

 

 _Smack._ “You let my friends hack my home OS last night…”

 

Keith broke character and giggled. “That was pretty funny.”

 

His body jumped with another spank. _Smack_. It was followed by gentle kisses trailing across his ass nearing his anus. “Still OK?” Shiro checked in.

 

“Yeah… OH my GOD…” Keith couldn’t help the words that escaped his mouth as he felt Shiro’s tongue swirl around the sensitive pucker of his asshole. “OH. Fuck, Shiro.” Shiro’s tongue continued in languid circles, drawing out beads of precum from Keith’s cock. Keith looked down (actually, up?) and tried to watch.

 

Shiro’s tongue stopped and Keith felt him shift away from his backside. “No, no, no. Don’t stop.”

 

 _Smack._ “Where are your manners? What do you say?”

 

“Oh, god. Please, Shiro. Fuck, that feels so good, _please_ don’t stop,” Keith pleaded. He was going crazy. He shifted his weight onto one forearm to reach for his leaking cock hanging between his legs. Shiro smacked his hand away.

 

“No. Touching. Did I say you could touch?”

 

“No…” Keith sobbed.

 

He felt Shiro’s breath ghost at his anus, his lips hovering. “I don’t think you’re behaving yourself…” _Smack._

 

Keith felt shaky as Shiro’s warm tongue returned, softly running circles in the opposite direction. Keith moaned. Shiro’s saliva ran down to Keith’s balls, dripping indecently as he licked up the cleft of Keith’s ass and returned to work on his asshole. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

 

“Still OK?” Shiro checked in again.

 

Keith moaned again, “Mmmh. Yeah. Feels so good, I want to…” Keith instinctively reached for his erection again.

 

Shiro smacked his hand away again. “You will come when I say you can come.”  Shiro trailed his tongue down Keith’s perineum. Keith heard the snap of the lid from the bottle of lube. His hamstrings trembled but Shiro’s hand ran comforting circles over Keith’s tailbone. “I’m just going to do _one_ finger, OK baby boy?”

 

“Yeah... ok. Ngh, you’re driving me insane.”

 

Shiro chuckled darkly. “Good.” He kissed Keith’s ass cheek while his lubed finger moved in small circles at Keith’s entrance. Keith held his breath. He had no idea what this would feel like. Shiro pushed in slowly to the first digit of his index finger. It felt... tight. It felt really, really tight and slightly uncomfortable… “Relax,” Shiro encouraged, massaging his hand over Keith’s lower back.

 

Shiro’s lips dragged across Keith’s ass cheek and licked around his finger in Keith’s entrance, moving it slightly for Keith to adjust. He slowly moved his finger deeper and eventually to the second digit. Keith couldn’t help but clench more. “You need to breathe, babe… It’ll be OK, I promise, I’m going to make you feel _really_ good, but you need to relax,” he heard Shiro from behind.

 

Keith let out his breath. Shiro slowly curled his finger to massage the front wall of Keith’s rectum and a warm, melting wave ran along the small of Keith’s spine. A slow, dull, erotic, melting wave. “Oh… fuck...” Keith moaned. His legs quivered and then Shiro removed his finger. Even with just one finger, Keith already missed the fullness and whatever the hell that sensation was. “More. Please. God, Shiro… Please don’t stop. I… holy… fucking...” Keith babbled.

 

“Harder? Softer?” Shiro asked before returning his tongue around the outside of his hole again.

 

“I… whatever the hell that was. Just… oh my god, more of whatever you were doing.” Keith sputtered. “Please, Shiro. Please just...” _Seriously, I’m begging. This is insane._ Keith heard Shiro chuckle as he returned his divine finger to stroke Keith’s prostate again. Shiro’s tongue continued to lathe around his finger, Keith’s perineum, his scrotum, whatever body part happened to be in front of him. Keith’s shoulders crumpled into the bed and he buried his head into the comforter. “Fuck. Fuck.” Keith breathed. “Shiro. FUCK! That feels soooo good. Shit.”

 

Keith pried his eyes open and watched copious strands of precum drip away from his erection and saturate the sheets below. Shiro’s finger moved steadily and firmly. The uncurling warmth pulsed throughout his body; a slow anticipation and intensity building with each of Shiro’s movements. Keith’s thighs and back shivered, his insides tremored and his arms felt lifeless. This wasn’t what he expected at all. It far exceeded any feeling he could have possibly fathomed. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. Keith felt like he was on the verge of coming but it was drawn out and just out of reach, barely lingering. “Shiro,” he whined.

 

“Yeah…” Shiro sounded slightly breathless. Keith’s cock twitched, hearing Shiro’s voice, raspy and unstable.

 

“I… I  need to… I’m fucking. I can’t… I can’t talk,” he finally managed to get out but it wasn’t at all what he needed to communicate. More precum dripped and pooled on the bed; Keith didn’t think this volume of fluid was even humanly possible.

 

“You ready to come for me?” Shiro asked, applying slightly more pressure, drawing out the strokes of his finger.

 

Keith swallowed, his mouth hung open. _Just need to form one word…_ “Yeah…” He couldn’t take the neediness out of his voice if he tried.

 

Shiro pulled his finger out. “What do you say?”

 

 _Fucking, seriously? Dammit, Shiro._ “P...p...please… Please, Shiro.” Keith’s empty rectum twitched; waiting, wanting.

 

Shiro applied more lube and inserted his finger again, stroking even more deliberately. The staggering bliss and warmth returned and wrapped tighter, pulsing around Keith’s insides.

 

Keith heard the lube cap click one more time and suddenly Shiro’s lubed free hand wrapped around the length of Keith’s cock and pumped once, eliciting an overwhelming release. Keith saw stars as euphoric convulsions took over his entire body and he shouted with the first wave. He’d never come this hard in his life. It almost hurt. The orgasm lingered longer than normal, stunning Keith’s senses. He sobbed into another shout as the waves kept crashing. He literally felt like he could fucking cry. He moaned loudly as the waves became more shallow and he let his entire body fall boneless into the mattress.

 

Keith’s muscles felt weak, his thighs shook. He looked up at Shiro and managed a smile. “What the fuck did you do to me?” he laughed breathlessly.

 

Shiro straightened up, kneeled on the bed, and started pleasuring himself. “That was so fucking hot, Keith. I’m going to come so hard, your tight ass around my finger… so fucking unreal, so fucking gorgeous when you come. You feel so tight. I bet you’d feel really, really fucking good around my dick, so fucking good and tight... Oh, god,” Shiro’s dirty mouth rambled as he fucked into his hand and put on a show for Keith, running his free hand over his body.

 

Shiro reached for one of Keith’s hands and placed it on his cock along with his hand while he continued to masturbate. Keith wished he could sit up to lick along Shiro’s erection but he was pretty much brain-dead so he just tried to memorize this image of Shiro losing it. “Fuck. Keith, goddamn!” he shouted as he shuddered and came on Keith’s stomach.

 

Shiro collapsed next to Keith. “Shit... “ he breathed, chest heaving. He looked over at Keith and smiled tiredly.

 

Keith laughed, “I can’t move. Anything. I’m surprised I can talk right now…”

 

\-----

 

Keith cleaned off with the towel Shiro had handed him. He pulled on a tee shirt and underwear and wandered out of Shiro’s bedroom while Shiro followed to make his way back to the bathroom. Keith stopped dead in his tracks and Shiro bumped into him. Medina was on the couch… awake.

 

“Oh, fuck.” Keith covered his mouth. Medina was sitting up, reading something on his phone… with earbuds in. Keith’s movement caught Medina’s attention and Medina shook his head and covered his eyes with his hand, trying to suppress an embarrassed smile.

 

Shiro stood frozen. Medina pulled out his earbuds and Shiro immediately apologized. “Oh, shit, Medina. I’m so sorry, I forgot you were here. Oh my god,” Shiro turned into the bathroom.

 

Keith laughed as he walked over to the couch. “Have you been awake this whole time?”

 

“Um… I was sleeping... Yeah. Until you, uh woke me with your um… earth-shattering orgasm or whatever the hell that was. So… I’m fine. I just can’t look you in the eye right now,” Medina was also laughing at the ridiculous situation he was in. “That was very... loud.”

 

Shiro returned from out of the bathroom. “I’m _so_ sorry...”

 

“I’ll be OK. All good, I found my earbuds. Not fast enough though, you just said some very... dirty things… But it’s all good. I’m very hungover,” Medina rambled.

 

Shiro covered his mouth while he tried not to laugh. Keith sat on the couch, laughing. “I’m sorry.”

 

“No, it’s fine,” Medina laughed. “You still smell like sex, get out of here.” Medina lightly pushed Keith away and Keith tumbled backward on the couch laughing more.

 

Shiro walked into his bedroom for a shirt and came back out. “I’m… mortified. I’m so sorry.”

 

“Seriously, it’s fine. I’m not grossed out because of the whole guy-on-guy thing. It’s more just like the same feeling as walking in on your parents or hearing that your sibling or grandmother does kinky shit. That’s all…” He finally looked up at both of them.

 

Shiro cleared his throat and tried not to laugh. “You want breakfast?” He was obviously trying to divert from the embarrassing but humorous situation they were in. He dug a coconut water out of the fridge and tossed it to Medina.

 

“Thanks. Well, I was going to make you guys breakfast… I mean, I was going to do it at like, 10:00 A.M. or something. It’s early, are you not going back to sleep? I can go, I was waiting for my hangover to clear up a bit before I drove… Actually, I’m still probably drunk.”

 

Keith looked at Medina. “Shiro wakes up at 5:30 every day…”

 

“Hence the very early… rockstar… sex… OK,” Medina attempted to reason. Keith laughed more.

 

“Stay, I’ll make breakfast,” Shiro offered.

 

Medina stood up. “No it’s all good, I'll cook. You have leftovers from yesterday?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Sweet. Let’s put some eggs on that shit.” Medina walked into the kitchen. “I got it. Sit down. I”ll make you some post-sex breakfast.”

 

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose and laughed. “I”m sorry…”

 

“Stop. I’ll get over it, or I'll get you back somehow...” Medina said, searching Shiro’s fridge for other ingredients to throw into his hangover breakfast concoction.

 

Shiro sat next to Keith at the kitchen island. “Are you still seeing Nadia?” Shiro asked, still trying to find another subject.

 

Medina snorted, “Kinda. I see her every Saturday, usually between the hours of two and four A.M.

 

“Medina!” Shiro scolded. “Don’t booty call her!”

 

“We can’t handle being around each other for more than a few hours so I might as well get laid.”

 

“Who watches her kid?”

 

“She lives with her sister now… I can’t handle the kid and ex-husband thing either. I’m just not ready for that shit. You know?”

 

“Do you still go to that bank she works at?”

 

“No, I avoid it. I will literally cross the street so I don’t have to walk in front of the bank and risk her seeing me during daylight hours.”

 

“If I had a sister, I’d keep her far away from you…” Shiro laughed.

 

Keith was thoroughly amused as he listened to Medina’s gossip. He caught Shiro up to speed on the three different girls he was juggling, his older sister’s divorce drama, and his uncle’s hilarious mid-life crisis purchases back in Colombia.

 

While they ate, Shiro gave Medina feedback on his ideas for his Mars orbiter maintenance proposal which was launching shortly after Kerberos. Medina would probably not be around either after Shiro left.

 

Keith contemplated if he’d actually hang out with Shiro's friends when Shiro was gone. Keith decided he likely would not. He liked them, he just didn't feel as comfortable around them as he did with Shiro. And he wouldn’t want them to hang out with him just because they felt obligated.

 

Shiro’s two weeks in Japan would be good practice… Keith was going to need to prepare himself to be alone again.

 

Not long ago, being alone was comforting, familiar, predictable. Now, it sounded... terrifying.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, thank you, thank you, thank you for the comments, kudos, good energy, and love.


	23. Don’t ever lose the fight in you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a short chapter… oh well. Who’s ready for some phone sex?! And some developments in the drama department… And an ellipsis or two

The more Shiro gave, the more empty it left Keith afterwards. They’d had another perfect weekend but Keith’s stomach felt sour as he sat on the bed watching Shiro pack. “It’s only two weeks, babe…” Shiro said. “I’ll try to call once I get situated if it isn’t 4:00 A.M. here; I’ll be fourteen hours ahead.”

 

“OK.”

 

“Oh, before I forget…” Shiro smirked and dug around his nightstand drawer. He tossed a bottle of lube to Keith.

 

“Um…” Keith wondered at the bottle in his hand.

 

Shiro walked back over to Keith and leaned on the bed to lick into his mouth. “You’re going to need that when I call you for phone sex.”

 

Keith smiled and kissed back, curling his tongue along Shiro’s. He still felt dizzy every time they kissed. “OK...” _Not sure how phone sex works..._

 

They said their drawn-out goodbyes that evening and Shiro dropped Keith off at his dorm afterwards. Keith walked up the stairs to his room and fought the pit in his gut and the anxiety in his chest.

 

OK… two weeks without Shiro. Keith thought about getting nostalgic and binge-watching some “Naruto” for a mindless distraction but thought about what Shiro had said earlier that week. _...channel your energy into making yourself better…_ Keith supposed that he could read some advanced materials to up his game. There was a particular textbook at Shiro’s that always caught Keith's attention: _Advanced High-Speed Aerodynamics_. Keith browsed the student cloud and found selected chapters available online.

 

He played Pink Floyd in the background because it reminded him of Shiro while he read up on the physics of speed and advanced maneuverability. Before bed, he pulled his practice sword out of the closet and ran through basic Kenjutsu stances in his room.

 

\-----

 

Keith had zero appetite while he picked at his stir-fry on Monday and read excerpts from the advanced aerodynamics text on his tablet. Shiro’s flight wouldn’t land until 7:00 A.M. on Tuesday, Mountain time. And then Keith would be in the suspension room at 8:00 A.M. This time difference was going to be difficult. By the time Keith would be done with suspension for the day, Shiro would just be waking up, but with jet lag...

 

Keith’s time calculations were interrupted when he saw Moore, Medina, and Erikson with their trays. “Sup prodigy?” Moore greeted.

 

“Hey,” Keith replied, a little less enthusiastically than normal. “Got home OK Friday night?”

 

Moore snorted, “Barely. I’m glad I don’t live that far. I didn’t get off my couch all day Saturday. Except for Taco Bell. Twice. Erikson, though, he had an adventure…”

 

“Shut up, Moore.” Erikson glared, then looked down at Keith’s expectant face and gave in. “We… dropped Celine off and then got lost in the whole complex of dorm buildings. We had to talk security out of reporting us because they caught Woolf peeing on the side of one of the buildings. It was so stupid…”

 

Keith laughed. “That’s hilarious.”

 

“...And then…” Moore prompted.

 

“Ugh... I... threw up on our mailbox.”

 

Keith laughed harder. “Couldn’t hold it ‘til you got to a bathroom in your house?”

 

“Apparently not… I keep forgetting to wash it off so I have to pass by it every time I come to campus or get my car or…” Erikson shook his head. “We’re idiots. Medina, did you drive home that night? Please tell me you didn’t drive...”

 

Keith tried not to snicker as he looked at Medina. Poor, hapless Medina. “Uh… no. I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Did you sleep on Shiro’s couch? You were already asleep when I left,” Moore noted.

 

“Um… yeah. Couch...” Medina responded. Keith buried his head into his arm on the table, shoulders shaking trying not to laugh out loud. “Fuck you, Keith,” Medina snapped without any real bite. “Actually, no. No. Not ‘fuck you’. But. Ugh! OK, I’m leaving to go eat… food...”

 

“What the hell happened?!” Erikson asked.

 

“Nothing! Shiro wakes up _very_ early! That’s all... And has _lots_ of energy. And has _no..._ body fat... whatsoever,” Medina sputtered, laughing at Keith’s reaction to his rambling. “No. No more talking…”

 

“Uh, what did you guys do to him?”

 

“No idea… Did you see Nadia between the hours of 2:00 and 4:00 A.M. the next night?” Keith smirked.

 

Erikson and Moore yelled in unison, “No you didn’t!!”

 

“I did… We did. We had sex at a _reasonable volume_ … At a _reasonable_ time of day...er, night… No windows were shattered… No other human beings were traumatized… to my knowledge...”

 

Keith threw his head back and barked a laugh. Erikson and Moore looked at each other and used their deductive reasoning. “Oooookay…” Erikson nudged Medina onwards. “Vamonos, Medina, time to eat… Later, Rookie.”

 

\-----

 

On Tuesday, right before he walked into the suspension room, Keith got a text from Shiro saying that he had gotten through customs. Drill Sergeant Phillips approved of Keith’s reading materials so at least he could read something a little more mentally stimulating for his last two days of hell. Keith had stopped by the Garrison library after dinner and picked up a couple books: _Deep Space Environment_ and _Applications of Stealth Dark Matter Theory_.

 

That night, Keith finally received a call from Shiro.

 

“Hey!” Keith answered.

 

“Hey.” Shiro’s voice was a bit muffled. And he sounded tired.

 

“How was the flight?”

 

“Couldn’t sleep on the plane. Didn’t sleep much overnight here either. I’m like a zombie right now because I woke up at 2:00 A.M. I’m staying with friends in Tokyo before I head down to my mom’s. Of course they want to go out in Tomigaya tonight…”

 

“I’m sure you’ll pull through, you operate on no sleep all the time,” Keith said, lying down on his bed.

 

Shiro grunted. “By the time you get used to the time difference and shake the jet lag, it’s time to turn around and come back... Are you done with suspension tomorrow?”

 

“Yep, last day. I looked at my sim scores online, I’m a little nervous about how this is affecting my average.”

 

“See if your professors will let you make up some scores. I’m sure Moore or, really, any of the guys would do some sim practice with you.”

 

“Yeah, maybe…” Keith didn’t want to ask for favors or inconvenience Shiro’s friends.

 

Shiro sighed. “All right, well, I’m going to grab some breakfast and call my mom. I’ll call you around this time tomorrow? Oh wait, that won’t work. I’m catching an early train to Yokohama for the day. I’ll call you Thursday.”

 

“Um, yeah, that works.” Keith was a little disappointed at their short conversation.

 

\-----

 

Keith wandered into Emergency and Recovery class on Thursday afternoon. Commander Turner walked past Keith in his sim pod. “Nice of you to join us, Kogane… Welcome back.” Keith rolled his eyes in irritation; however, facing the co-pilot class and professor earlier today had been downright embarrassing.

 

“All right, class. We have a guest demo today. Senior Captain Rivali, alternate pilot for the Kerberos mission, will be talking about the aerodynamics of intermediate level dives in emergency situations and then demonstrating some of these maneuvers for you.” Captain Rivali stood up out of one of the pods and waved to the class. He looked to be around his early thirties and of Italian descent with his wavy and unruly dark hair pulled into a man bun. During all of the excitement, Keith vaguely remembered seeing him step out of his pod after the navigation challenge.

 

Rivali presented the first scenario and then the students attempted the flight simulation individually. It felt good to fly again; the more difficult dives were a blast for Keith. He hated drawing attention to himself but his class was just so full of inept idiots and Rivali kept using Keith’s sim playbacks as teaching points for the rest of the class. Of course, this earned Keith some dirty looks since most of the class just assumed that he was a smug show-off.

 

After class was dismissed, Rivali approached Keith. “Kogane?”

 

“Um, yes, sir.” Keith stood at attention.

 

“At ease. You’re _quite_ a natural. Do you ever work with other officers to practice outside of class?”

 

“Yeah, occasionally.”

 

“Good. You’ll need to keep that up to stay ahead. I heard about the suspension from your professor.”

 

Keith groaned, “Yeah…”

 

“It’s all right… I was a bit of a rebel in flight school myself. I got suspended all the time for fights.” He then pointed out a big scar across the back of his hand. “Missed this kid’s head when he ducked out of the way and I broke the glass door behind him with my fist.”

 

“Ouch… I guess that’s good to hear, though. There’s hope for me after all…” Keith said with slight sarcasm.

 

“Yeah. Commander Iverson was the school director then, I was in his office all the fucking time but he went easy on me. Recognized how good I was at flying… I’ve calmed down since then, obviously. Anyway, I know from personal experience that suspension really wreaks havoc on your sim scores. I’d be happy to help you out... We can do some sim practice if you’re not running off anywhere. Commander Turner said it was cool for you to make up some time.”

 

“Like… now?” Keith looked at his phone. Shiro was likely still sleeping anyway, if he’d managed to overcome his jet lag.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Keith hesitated, but what could it hurt? “Yeah. OK. Thanks.”

 

The two located an open co-pilot sim in the atrium outside of the classrooms. “I’m going to pull up a really advanced dive and landing scenario, it’s sick,” Rivali said as he unbuttoned his uniform cuffs to roll up his sleeves, revealing a full sleeve tattoo on his left arm while he scrolled through scenarios on the screen.

 

Keith snorted. “You trying to sabotage me? I’m going to crash that shit.”

 

“Nah, you can definitely handle it, I saw your moves in class. You can boost your average faster with more advanced scenarios. That’s how I got ahead.”

 

Keith was still skeptical. “OK… I’m holding you responsible if my average takes a bigger nosedive than it already has.” Rivali reached over to reset a few of the controls and Keith's gaze zeroed in on Rivali's intricate ink. “That’s a pretty killer tattoo.”

 

“Thanks. Hurt like a mother fucker. My whole back is done too. I don’t know why I keep torturing myself, it's an expensive and painful hobby,” he said, scrolling through Keith’s record of prior scores. “Oooh, you’ve got a nice cargo pilot average right now.”

 

“Ugh…” Keith scoffed.

 

“Let’s fix that, shall we?” Rivali smiled while he scrolled through Keith’s score history. “Oh... I see Shirogane cosigned some of your scores.”

 

“Yeah, he… uh, helps me out here and there.” _And sucks my dick on occasion…_ Keith remembered to downplay their relationship from Shiro’s warning last week.

 

“Must’ve caught _his_ attention…”

 

“Eh, not really. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time and we got to... talking... briefly...” _What the hell am I supposed to say?_

 

“I’m surprised he’s never pulled up these types of scenarios for you. You’re more than capable… I actually mentored him when _he_ was in flight school.”

 

“Yeah? He as good as everyone says he is?” Keith tried playing dumb.

 

“He was just like you, actually. Really talented, really fearless, just… raw energy, lightning-fast reflexes. Honestly, though, I think he’s lost his edge. As a pilot, you still need to keep that fight in you, you know, that finesse that gives you your own flying style. It’s hard to maintain that edge when you’re busy memorizing every policy and procedure, trying to impress all the higher-ups all the time… His flying now is very… calculated, predictable, I don’t know. A little too by-the-book for me. Plus, I don’t think he’s got enough experience behind him for a mission like Kerberos. But that’s just my opinion...”

 

“Hmmm,” Keith nodded, taking it in.

 

Rivali placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder and squeezed. “Don’t ever lose the fight in you, Kogane. You’ll be a better pilot in the long run for it. All right, enough of this motivational bullshit. Let’s do this! You ever listen to music while you fly?” Rivali asked, looking through music on his phone.

 

“Never occurred to me.”

 

“I like listening to shit that makes me mad. I fly harder. You like My Chemical Romance?”

 

“Dude, that’s like, one of my favorite bands.”

 

“Right on, let’s rock out then…”

 

Rivali ran Keith through some really cool dives, crash landings, and some offensive fighter maneuvers. Keith almost crashed the last roll maneuver but was able to pull out of it unscathed. Rivali laughed, “You are unbelievable, Kogane! Your class must _hate_ you.”

 

“They do…”

 

“Fuck ‘em. They’re just jealous.”

 

 _OK, this guy is pretty fucking cool._ Keith’s phone suddenly rang. It was Shiro. “Uh, I need to go and return this call. Um, this was really awesome of you, though. Thanks.”

 

“No fucking problem, Kogane. I’m usually open on Thursdays if you want to keep practicing. Email me, I’m in the directory.”

 

\-----

 

Keith hurried home to call Shiro back, riding high from all the cool shit he’d just learned. But Shiro didn’t pick up. Keith huffed and flopped on his bed thinking about the rush he’d felt from some of those dives he’d pulled with Captain Rivali cheering him on, angsty guitars in the background. It was less zen than when he flew with Shiro, but it was fucking fun. Keith was pulled out of his head by the ringing of his phone.

 

“There you are,” Keith answered

 

“What do you mean ‘there you are’? Where were you?”

 

“Oh, sorry. I was… um, class ran late. Jet lag any better?”

 

“Yeah, I woke up at _three_ A.M. instead of two… I’ve been lying here trying to fall back asleep for hours... How are you?” Shiro’s voice sounded muffled, like he was leaning into a pillow.

 

“Good. I’ve been reading a lot actually.”

 

“What are you doing now?”

 

“Um, I told you… Just got back to my room.”

 

“That’s it? You in bed?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“What are you wearing?”

 

Keith snickered. “Same shit I always wear, nerd.”

 

“Work with me here…”

 

Keith giggled into the phone. “Well, I’m still in uniform but I _do_ happen to be wearing my short, red trunks today…”

 

“Mmmm… You look good in those… Take off your pants.” Shiro’s voice sounded rougher and more gritty, muffled by the phone. He was already breathing heavily into the receiver.

 

Keith obeyed. “I’m taking off my shirt, too.”

 

“Good boy. I’m already so hard thinking about you. Are you touching yourself?”

 

Keith palmed at his flaccid length over his trunks. “Yeah…” Keith moaned into the phone as he rocked his hips up, meeting his palm. “Um, are you still dressed?”

 

“No. I’ve been lying naked in bed waiting for you to help me. I need you to help me get off… Take off your underwear.”

 

“OK.” Keith followed his orders. He then wrapped his hand around his hardening erection and moaned again for Shiro. “I’m getting harder.”

 

“Mmmm. Wish I was there. I’d suck you so good. You got that lube, baby boy?”

 

Keith giggled at his recently-acquired pet name. It was cute. “Uh, yeah. Give me a sec…” Keith leaned over the edge of the bed to rummage through the backpack he usually brought to Shiro’s. “What do you want me to do with this?”

 

“You’re going to see how many fingers you can fit in that tight little ass of yours.” Shiro’s muffled groans filled the phone. “I’ll talk you through it. I’m so hard, Keith...”

 

“Um… I don’t know if I can do that to myself. I haven’t really tried. Um, OK…” Keith nervously looked at the bottle of lube and had stopped pleasuring himself.

 

“It’ll be good. It’ll be really, really, uh…. Really good.” Shiro sounded like he was losing it already and Keith had barely started. “Still touching yourself? Pretend it’s me. I want to hear all those amazing sounds you make when I touch you. I love your pretty cock. I love touching it. Are you hard?”

 

 _I am now…_ “Yeah…” Keith fucked up into his hand. “I’m going to pour lube all over my dick.”

 

“Oh god. Yeah. Do it. Fuck, Keith. Get really wet for me. You are _so_ hot, so fucking hot.”

 

Keith gasped into the phone as the cool lubricant dripped down his length and over his hand. “It’s really wet Shiro. It’s so wet, feels really good. I wish you were here.” He heard faint slapping of skin over the phone, Shiro sounded like he was fervently jerking off.

 

Shiro whined into the phone. “Shit, Keith. OK. I want you to touch your asshole, just move little circles over it with all that lube. OK? I wish I could see you opening up. I wants my fingers inside you so bad. Want you to come so hard. So fucking hard. Drives me crazy...” Shiro’s dirty talk just spilled from his lips with zero filter. Keith loved it, especially since everything else that came out of his mouth was so calculated; he didn’t even curse that much in normal conversation with his friends. “How does it feel?”

 

Keith hesitated and then slowly ran one finger over the pucker of his anus. He jumped at the feeling but it was so sensitive that it felt really good, especially with Shiro’s breathing and grunting filling his ears. “Mmmm, feels good. Feels better when you do it, though. I want you to do it.”

 

“Baby boy, I would if I could. I wish I was there to lick you open. I want you to try one finger, OK? Do that for me.”

 

“Yeah… OK.” Keith exhaled. He pushed his middle finger in slowly. It was really hard to move his finger at all; he didn’t know how he’d ever be able to get a second one in. Or more… Shiro…

 

“You OK?”

 

“Yeah, it’s just… tight.”

 

Shiro growled. “Fuck… How far is your finger?”

 

“Just a little… um, in.”

 

“More. Further. Around your second digit you’re going to curl your finger and find that spot that makes you scream.”

 

“OK,” Keith breathlessly reached further. He wiggled enough to get some room to be able to curl his finger. He searched for that spot, that feeling, losing his erection as he prodded.

 

“You’re awfully quiet… did you find it?”

 

“No… I can’t. I don’t know.”

 

“Further up, then. My fingers are longer than yours.”

 

“OK... “ He felt a twinge of ‘something’ as he moved further up. Something that resembled what Shiro had made him feel, but it was weak and distant.

 

“Push harder…”

 

Oh… right. “Uh… yeah, ok.” He pushed into that same spot. “Fuck!”

 

“Got it?”

 

“Yeah.” Keith’s breath wavered and his body shuddered. That familiar warmth surrounded his tailbone, around the base of his scrotum, and spread down his thighs. “Ugnh,” he moaned, pushing, stroking.

 

“Fuck. Keith. Fuck yourself harder.”

 

More guttural and lewd sounds escaped Keith’s throat. He hoped the neighboring dorm rooms couldn’t hear. “Yeah. Feels good harder…”

 

“You’re making me so crazy, Keith. You know some people can come just by doing that. I want to know if you can do that for me…”

 

“Mmmm, I think I need you for that. Still doesn’t feel like when you do it…”

 

“Can you do another finger?”

 

“Ah, I don’t… not sure. It’s still really tight.”

 

“Try for me, baby boy. It’s gonna feel so good. So fucking good. Tell me what it feels like.”

 

Keith sat up slightly and held the phone between his shoulder and ear. He covered his index finger in lube, his semi-erect cock lying ignored on his stomach. Oh, what if he sat up completely? That might be easier. “Hang on, Shiro.” Keith fully sat up and then slowly lowered himself down on two fingers, an uncomfortable stretching and burning across his anus. He paused and took a deep breath and unclenched his jaw. The stinging subsided as his fingers filled him and gave way to more intense warmth in his gut. “I ah… OK. Two fingers.”

 

“Good boy, Keith. You’re such a good boy. So fucking hot. You lying down? I want to know what you look like.”

 

“Um, I just sat up. Fucking down into my fingers on the bed.”

 

“Fucking seriously? Oh, shit. I bet you look soooo gorgeous fucking yourself. Wish I could watch you.”

 

Shiro’s praise made Keith’s cock throb. He reached down while he tried curling his fingers into his prostate again. He moaned when he located it. “I might drop the phone,” he said breathlessly.

 

“You touching your cock, too?”

 

“Yeah, feels really good,” Keith whined. “Getting close…”

 

“I wish you could come on my face, Keith. I’d lick it off. You taste so good.”

 

 _Um… whoa. OK._  “Shiro I’m going to come.”

 

“Me too. Oh god, Keith. Keith, fuck, Keith. Ughnhh,” Shiro moaned into the phone.

 

Keith’s orgasm blossomed from his gut and took over his body. A heavily tattooed arm reaching a hand around his twitching cock flashed through Keith’s vision for a split-second and suppressed the rest of Keith’s climax as he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. Keith’s moan choked off as he panted into the phone, eyes wide. _That was fucked up..._

 

“Mmmm Keith…” Shiro sighed breathlessly into the phone. “I love hearing you come.”

 

“Yeah?” Keith responded while he wracked his messed-up brain. _What the hell- Rivali…_

 

\-----

 

Keith and Shiro spoke a few more times on the phone while Shiro was away. The phone sex the second time around was a little better; Keith had more control over his wandering mind that time. The following Thursday, however, Keith and Captain Rivali had another sim practice.

 

\-----

 

There were two times in Keith’s life at the Garrison where Erikson knocked on Keith’s door. The first time was the Sunday that Shiro was due back from Japan. Keith was taken a bit off guard as he answered his door.

 

“Hey, Rookie.”

 

“Hey. Uh, What’s up?”

 

“I would’ve texted before I dropped by but I don’t have your number. I’m going to leave in a few to pick up your boyfriend at the airport. Wanna come with?”

 

Keith’s heart leapt. “Yeah! I just need to change. Do you have a minute?”

 

“Yeah, no problem.” Erikson stepped in the door and waited while Keith grabbed a change of clothes and ran to the bathroom.

 

\-----

 

The boys drove mostly in silence with the radio playing.

 

“Hey, Erikson? Did you ever get that email to your friend from the University?” Keith asked.

 

“My friend from the University?” Erikson questioned. “Oh! Yeah, I did. I got some really good answers from the engineering team a while back and sent that to him. He didn’t have any smart-ass remarks to the _very_ professional email I sent him. Little prick…”

 

“I just wanted to smack that annoying smile off his face…”

 

“I don’t think it’s possible. His face is like, permanently like that.” They both laughed at their mutual hatred for Jules despite barely knowing the guy. Erikson’s laughter faded and then he shifted uncomfortably. “Um… so... Moore was going through sim scores yesterday for that project he works on. He said you’ve gotten some insane scores the past two weeks.”

 

“Yeah, trying to make up for lost time,” Keith answered.

 

“Yeah. Moore mentioned the cosigner… How do you know Rivali?”

 

“Uh, he did a guest demo in class and then just came up to me afterwards and offered to help me out.”

 

“Oh. OK…”

 

“Why?” Keith asked. Erikson sounded nervous or suspicious; he couldn’t figure out what the problem was. Besides the fact that, for some reason, the guy’s tattoos flitted through his head on a couple of sleepless nights... But Erikson didn’t know that.

 

“It’s not a big deal. He’s a super-talented pilot. You’ll learn a lot from him. Just… don’t tell Shiro,” Erikson said, furrowing his brow.

 

Keith’s stomach turned. “Why?”

 

“He’s like, the only guy that Shiro doesn’t get along with. That’s all. Rivali tries to be really competitive with him and then gets shitty because Shiro beats him at everything. I just wasn’t sure if he was trying to mess with Shiro by getting to you. Doesn’t sound like it, though.”

 

“Well, no one knows about us… Right?”

 

“Commander Iverson’s a little suspicious after going through the report from your fight. Did Rivali say much?”

 

“No. Just asked how I knew Shiro when he saw that Shiro cosigned some of my scores and said that Shiro was inexperienced... in his ‘opinion’.”

 

Erikson rolled his eyes. "Sounds like Rivali."

 

\-----

 

They waited outside the airport alongside expectant families and bored cab drivers. Keith finally spotted Shiro and it felt like he was seeing him for the first time all over again, minus the terrible techno that was playing at the MMA gym. And with the addition of… facial hair??

 

Erikson laughed and did the half bro-hug thing. “Welcome back, man, did you forget to pack a razor?”

 

“Nah, I was just being lazy at my mom’s. It’s itchy though, I need to shave it off. “ Shiro smoothed his broad hand over his short beard and moustache. “Hey, you…” he said, leaning down and pulling Keith into a deep kiss. A woman walking by blushed at their display.

 

“You’re scratchy,” Keith fake-complained even though he liked the rugged look it gave Shiro.

 

“We’ll see if you’re still complaining after your moustache-ride later…”

 

Erikson piped up, “Umm, I heard that. Too much information. Waaay too much information.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk why but shiro+facial hair=yum
> 
> Also watched office space recently after not having seen it in forever and milton's “radio at a reasonable volume” seemed perfect for medina’s situation...


	24. Don't wait for me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro pov  
> a little more Rivali drama... why do i love this asshole so much?

Shiro’s jet lag had become manageable by Wednesday. He was so busy making up training hours on Monday and Tuesday that he was sufficiently worn out and could sleep most of the night.

 

The Kerberos team sat in the boardroom, preparing for a press conference with the major national news networks. Erikson briefed the team on general questions that would be asked and which details were to remain confidential. Iverson was staring Shiro down from across the table. He was probably annoyed that Shiro had requested a formal review of deep space policy and procedure with the Chief Administrator next week. To Iverson’s right was Captain Rivali, playing with his senior officers’ beret, pretending to listen. He’d attempted to tame his wild hair today with a red bandana tied as a headband. Rivali looked up and briefly made eye contact with Shiro; he smirked and then looked away.

 

In Shiro’s opinion, the press conference should have just been with the press secretaries, mission control director, and ship’s immediate crew. Not with mechanics supervisors, engineering managers, and… alternate pilots.

 

The meeting was adjourned and the group got up to walk into the press conference auditorium. Rivali put on his beret, leaving a sliver of red peeking out, and exited the room with the rest. Shiro pulled Erikson aside. “What’s the deal with this circus? And why is Rivali in this press conference?”

 

Erikson rolled his eyes. “Iverson’s been micromanaging everything. And you know Commander Holt is too easy-going to care. I think everyone just wants a piece of Kerberos right now; everyone wants their name on it since it's finally happening. Technically, Rivali is the most senior pilot on the ‘team’,” he held his fingers in quotes for emphasis, “aside from Iverson, but Iverson’s representing mission control… at least I’m guessing that was the reasoning for having Rivali here.”

 

Shiro scoffed. “If we go by seniority then why the hell isn’t _he_ the damn pilot?” Erikson held his hands up in response. Shiro understood. Erikson needed to remain neutral in all of this.

 

The group took their assigned seats at the rows of long tables. Erikson introduced Commanding Officers Iverson and Holt and then Commander Holt introduced his crew: his son and Shiro. Shiro was flattered as Holt described him as a rising star and the best and brightest the Garrison had to offer.

 

The journalists present had fairly basic questions after that: what the team hoped to find on Kerberos, the duration of the trip, what it would be like to eat freeze-dried food for a full year. As Shiro anticipated, the core team was all that was needed for the press conference.

 

After the scheduled time was up, the group exited and was permitted to take more informal questions in the flight atrium. Shiro checked the time. He had planned to get in more training time before heading back to his place to pack for the beach.

 

After giving a few interviews, Shiro signaled to Erikson that he was leaving to head back to his desk before going to the training pods. On his way out, Shiro’s eyes narrowed as he saw a female journalist speaking with Rivali. _Why the hell is this guy giving interviews?_ He listened as he tried to pass unnoticed.

 

“Senior Captain Rivali, one last question for you. And thank you, again, for taking the time to speak with us. What, in your expert opinion, are the most important qualities in a pilot for a deep space mission like this? I mean, this is a big deal. This is the farthest humans have ever traveled in space,” the reporter said.

 

Rivali noticed Shiro and looked him in the eye as he answered the question, “That’s a great question, Rachael. I’d have to say instinct and _experience_ are of utmost importance...”

 

\-----

 

Shiro’s blood boiled at the indirect insult while he walked up to his desk. Rivali was always annoyingly passive-aggressive with him. Ten years his senior, Alex Rivali was a newly promoted Captain when a professor had introduced him to Shiro after class one day. Rivali was the notoriously talented rebel of the Galaxy Garrison, at the time, and mentored Shiro on the side throughout most of flight school. Shiro hated to admit it, but he had a slight crush on the guy at the beginning. They never had a falling out, per se; Shiro just noticed how Rivali began reining him in when he started breaking Rivali’s records. And Rivali acted more bitter towards Shiro despite going to great lengths to increase the frequency of their training sessions. Shiro eventually realized that Rivali kept his enemies closer than his friends; he avoided Rivali as much as possible from then on out.

 

Shiro put in a few hours in the zero-G sim to clear his head before heading back to his apartment; his phone buzzed the whole way home with incoming calls. His mother had woken up early and wanted to know when he’d be on TV. His aunt called to report that she was watching the televised coverage of the press conference at that very moment, cousins shouting in the background.

 

He walked into his apartment and Keith was on the couch eating leftovers, also watching TV. Shiro had given Keith a key so that he could come by after class. The plan was to leave early the next morning for San Diego, so Keith was just going to spend the night.

 

“Hey! How’d it go?” Keith asked, mouth full of noodles.

 

“Manageable, no crazy questions asked.”

 

“That’s good. USNC is showing a few clips from the conference now. You look so handsome,” he smiled.

 

Shiro chuckled uncomfortably and rubbed his hand over his undercut. He hated seeing himself on TV so he only watched for a minute. The sounds from the TV faded to the background while he walked to the kitchen to cobble a meal together. His ears perked up, however, as the familiar voice of the reporter from earlier this afternoon, seated at the news desk, wrapped up the network’s coverage of the press conference. “Look for our full coverage of the Kerberos launch on the first of December, live from Sun Valley, Arizona. This is just such an exciting time for the whole world, really. We’ve come so far in a relatively short period of time. The Galaxy Garrison has an excellent behind-the-scenes team making this mission happen and the onboard crew is a small but elite group of individuals. Despite this, a few industry experts question the experience of some of the crew members.”

 

The other news anchor chimed in, “Rachael, I’ve heard this from others as well. There’s some concern that the pilot is a bit young for a mission like this...”

 

Shiro’s body moved before his brain registered what he was doing. He picked up the remote to turn the TV off and threw it down on the table. Keith looked a little startled. “You know that’s BS, Shiro. They need to find the tiniest bit of controversy for ratings and shit…” Keith said.

 

Rivali was hardly an “industry expert”. If he and Iverson were the ones planting these ideas… Shiro’s vision blurred with rage. He picked up the phone to call Erikson while Keith watched nervously from the couch. “Who the hell is planting this shit?! Why would Iverson want this mission to look bad?!” he yelled before Erikson could even say ‘hello’.

 

“Shiro, I don’t… I don’t fucking know, man. You know it’s just speculation. I think it’s Iverson too, maybe he’s angling to let Rivali swoop in. I don’t know. Look, I can’t talk, my office phone is ringing off the hook. I’ll call you later.”

 

Shiro ended the call and let the phone slide from his hand to drop onto the kitchen island. He gripped the counter until his knuckles turned white; he needed to punch something. Maybe he could walk over to the rec center for an hour... Keith’s voice finally registered in his head as it echoed to the forefront. “Shiro… Shiro…?” He approached tentatively.

 

“Sorry. I…” Shiro took a deep breath. The scared look on Keith’s face pained him. “Something’s up with the mission, Iverson’s messing with me… I know it.”

 

“What does it matter? Commander Holt is the one in charge in the air. You know you’re better than any of the other pilots and _Holt_ knows you’re better than any of the other pilots… That’s why he picked you. His life is in _your hands_ , and he picked _you_. So what does it fucking matter? I… I don’t like seeing you like this.”

 

Shiro rarely lost his temper but he was aware that it came off as fairly intimidating, given his height and muscle mass. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be losing my head over this stuff.” He slumped down on the bar stool next to the island. “I just don’t understand…”

 

Keith wrapped his slender arms around Shiro’s neck and planted a small kiss on his cheek. “Sounds like you need to take your own advice.”

 

“And what’s that, oh wise one?”

 

“Channel your energy into making yourself better than people like that... Because you are.” Keith smirked, knowing how right he was.

 

\-----

 

The next morning, Shiro carried Keith’s and his own bags to the parking lot where the rest of the guys were loading Moore’s “soccer mom” van to drive to San Diego.

 

“Morning, boys,” Shiro greeted everyone.

 

“Shiro!” Medina started. “Dude, you’re like a celebrity. My mom’s all like, ‘is that your friend on TV? Dios mio’…” Medina mocked, fanning his face with his hand.

 

Shiro felt a warm flush cross his cheekbones as he laughed at Medina’s antics.

 

Erikson spoke up, “Seriously, the social media coordinator came up to me last night and was like, ‘Shiro’s blowing up’. All these ‘dashing young Kerberos pilot’ posts and shit. If anything, describing you as young is making the mission more appealing to younger generations.”

 

Keith pinched Shiro’s ass and then snaked an arm around his, whispering, “And he’s aaalllll mine.”

 

“All right, we all packed? I hope we avoid Phoenix rush hour,” Moore said, closing the trunk.

 

“Shotgun!!” Medina suddenly shouted, jogging to the front of the van.

 

“Oh, fuck no!” Woolf yelled. He wrestled Medina for the front seat however, Medina’s solid mass won over Woolf’s lanky height.

 

“Backseat!” Keith called.

 

Medina turned and pointed at them. “No making out back there!! Don't make me turn this van around!” he joked.

 

“I’m driving, dumbass…” Moore piped up dangling the keys in Medina’s face.

 

Erikson shook his head as usual and looked back at Shiro. “Children….”

 

The group piled in with Keith and Shiro all the way back in the third row of seats. Shiro stretched across the entire back bench seat with his head in Keith’s lap and immediately dozed off to Keith running his fingers through his hair. He faintly heard Moore and Medina arguing up front about McDonald's breakfast.

 

\-----

 

Shiro stretched and awoke to a relatively quiet van. He looked up and Keith smiled down at him, setting aside his tablet. “Hey.”

 

“Hi,” Shiro yawned. “What are you reading?”

 

“Studying for my astronomy final.”

 

Shiro reached up and brushed Keith’s hair out of his face. Keith always leaned into his touch; it always made Shiro smile.

 

A notification buzzed on Keith’s phone. He glanced at it, tensed, and furrowed his brow. He typed something into the phone quickly and then put it back down.

 

“Celine?”

 

“Nah. Just... replying to an email…”

 

Shiro hummed and resumed brushing Keith’s cheekbone with his thumb. “Do you have your fall quarter schedule yet?”

 

“Yeah. Actually because of Moore’s project, they’re letting me test out of two of the four flight classes so I can take more advanced classes. And they’re setting up an independent mentorship period twice a week where they randomly assign a different pilot to work with me each session.”

 

Shiro’s heart felt warm. “That’s amazing, Keith!”

 

“Yeah, it’s pretty exciting. Actually I’ve got Medina the second week in October.”

 

“Wait what?!” Medina called from the front.

 

“Check your damn email, Medina,” Keith called back. “Anyway, my schedule will be a little busier than normal. Why?”

 

“I'm going to rent a car and drive to Fresno some time early November. I want you to come with me.”

 

Keith smiled. “Oh, yeah? Like meeting family and stuff?”

 

“Yeah,” Shiro smiled dumbly.

 

“I’ll totally miss class for that. My profs have been cool about making up… uh.” Keith’s sentence stalled out.  “...Shouldn't be a problem.”

 

“Cool. It’s a long drive but maybe we can stop in Death Valley part-way. It'll be fun to do a road trip... Just us…”

 

“I'll totally give you road head…”

 

Shiro laughed, “I'd love some road head.”

 

“Hey!” Erikson scolded. “Stop talking about road head back there!”

 

\-----

 

The group arrived late afternoon. Woolf had booked three rooms at a decent hotel on the beach, with a poolside bar, of course.

 

Shiro dropped the bags in their room. Almost instantaneously, Keith attacked Shiro and pushed him onto the bed. Shiro smiled into Keith’s mouth as his boyfriend licked aggressively along his teeth and bit his lip. “Didn't get enough on Sunday?” Shiro asked.

 

“Huh uh,” Keith groaned, breathless and needy.

 

“I think I've created a monster,” Shiro laughed while Keith ground his hips into Shiro’s. _Damn_ …

 

They ignored the knock at their door. “Hey guys?” It was Woolf. “We're heading to the bar downstairs to grab a drink and figure out where to eat… Guys?”

 

Keith giggled as he bit Shiro’s shoulder.

 

Then Medina’s voice came through the door. “Seriously, guys?! We just got here, you're already… uh… ok… meet us downstairs when you're, um, done...”

 

Keith laughed. “We're traumatizing Medina.” He returned to sucking and biting up Shiro's neck.

 

“He's just joking. You'd know if he was actually bothered. Seriously, try not to leave marks, babe…”

 

“Nope, you are mine.” Keith growled. _What's gotten into him?_

 

_\-----_

 

Shiro and Keith walked down the outdoor stairs to the hotel bar. Shiro chuckled to himself as he overheard his friends’ idiotically humorous conversation. “...Dude, I'm serious, what's the statistic?” Medina looked around the table. “It's something like five times a day. And men think about it every five minutes. So gay guys have tons more sex than straight guys… I’m asking Shiro...”

 

“You've solved all of the world's problems, Dani,” Erikson deadpanned while answering emails on his phone.

 

“In my next life, I'm going to be into dudes,” Medina declared.

 

“You could just be a porn star if you want to have more sex. Actually,” Moore chimed in, “what are you even complaining about? You're the one seeing three different girls!”

 

Woolf almost spit out his beer laughing, “Danilo Diggler… You'd make a terrible porn star.”

 

“Whatever. I'm asking Shiro,” Medina decided.

 

“Absolutely not,” Erikson called out.

 

Shiro and Keith laughed at the ridiculous exchange. “Ask me if you should become a porn star?” Shiro asked as they approached the table.

 

Medina opened his mouth but Erikson interrupted. “No.”

 

“Fine,” Medina pouted.

 

“OK, what do you guys feel like eating?” Erikson asked.

 

Keith spoke up. “Yeah, we don’t want Erikson to get hangry.”

 

The group laughed at Erikson. “I hate you all.”

 

Shiro squeezed Erikson’s shoulders and jostled him from behind. “And now you're stuck with us all weekend…”

 

\-----

 

The group wound up staying at the hotel bar for dinner. The bar filled up as the night progressed and a girl with short bangs, red lips, and some sort of poetry tattooed in script across her forearm approached Keith. Shiro sat back, amused to watch their interaction. Keith smiled sweetly but looked uncomfortable as she touched his arm while they chatted. It appeared that Keith had asked her about her tattoo and she was intensely discussing the meaning behind it. Keith met Shiro's eyes across the table, probably looking for help, but Shiro just smiled mischievously, crossed his arms, and left him to fend for himself.

 

Eventually Keith flashed him a desperate “help me” look and threw his hands up in the air. It was getting late anyway so Shiro walked over. He simply reached down to brush a strand of hair behind Keith’s ear. “I’m going to head up, baby boy. You coming?”

 

The girl looked slightly shocked but played it off. “Sorry, I’ve been talking your ear off. You must be tired. Long drive from Arizona, right?”

 

“Yeah… Um, it was nice to meet you. Kat, right?” Keith held his hand out and shook hers.

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Have a good night,” Keith said softly and stood to follow Shiro upstairs.

 

Shiro smiled when they got into their room. “She was into you…”

 

“Stop,” Keith whined with embarrassment.

 

“What? She was cute,” he teased.

 

“She was cool but… You know I'm not into girls whatsoever.”

 

“You never know…”

 

“What- Why are you giving me shit about this? Do you want me to go back downstairs and get her number for the fuck of it?”

 

“No. I just, well…” Shiro hoped Keith wouldn’t take this the wrong way, but... “While I’m away, it’s OK if you meet someone else.”

 

Keith’s eyes widened. “What!?”

 

“It’s just that... I’m going to be gone for at least a year. You’re young and if some other person comes along during that time, then you shouldn’t feel obligated to wait around for me. You know?”

 

“OK, I’m confused. This morning, in the car, you said you wanted me to meet your family in California and now you’re saying, ‘but don’t wait for me’. Like… no big deal.” Shiro hadn’t intended for this to be an argument but it was headed that way.

 

“Yes. I want you to meet my family. And I’d be incredibly lucky if I came back from Kerberos and you waited for me and we could pick up like nothing happened. But, I want you to know that I’m not asking you to. That’s all. I’m not trying to push you away or anything. I’m just trying to be mindful of... the situation. And… realistic.”

 

“OK, I still don’t know what to do with that information.” Keith was looking around the room. This was what he’d looked like when they’d encountered each other at Erikson’s promotion party. Defensive but cornered; searching for his escape. “I need to take a walk.”

 _Not how I expected this to go._ Shiro was too tired to argue right now; Keith would be easier to talk to once he’d calmed down, anyway. 

 

\-----

 

Shiro stirred in the middle of the night and found Keith awake in bed, eyes open and glimmering. “I’m sorry,” Keith said sheepishly.

 

“It’s OK. I’m sorry I upset you. I just want you to do what’s best for you. Whatever that may be.”

 

Keith’s eyes welled up, tears catching the dim light. “I want you to be what’s best for me,” he whispered.

 

“OK,” Shiro murmured, reaching to wipe a tear running down towards the bridge of Keith’s nose. Shiro scooted closer and tangled their limbs as they stared at each other in the dark.

 

\-----

 

The rest of the trip was relaxing and just what Shiro needed after his whirlwind trip to Japan. Nights spent lying in bed with Keith, sleeping with the windows open, listening to the waves; days spent at the beach with his closest friends. He took in the salty breeze and blue skies; the sun warming his skin, Keith’s presence warming his soul. He tried to memorize every detail. A year in outer space was feeling ominously chilling the more Shiro thought about it.

 

\-----

 

Shiro stood before the flight department heads Monday morning. Chief Administrator Adisa was flanked by his chiefs of staff and the ten most senior commanders in Aeronautics, Iverson included. “Captain Shirogane,” Administrator Adisa started, “I genuinely appreciate your concern regarding the ethics and safety policies of Kerberos and all prospective deep space missions. As you know, budgetary constraints have become just that: constraining. I challenged my commanders to think outside the box to deliver possible solutions so that we may proceed with our deep space initiatives and continue to elevate the Galaxy Garrison and thus, the United States, as the leader in space exploration and research.

 

“Commander Iverson’s proposal to eliminate rescue and extraction teams for deep space missions is exactly what is enabling the Kerberos mission to launch this time around. I utilized my executive power to immediately revise policy so that the Kerberos mission would not be compromised or delayed; I acknowledge this is not standard protocol and I apologize that you were not properly alerted to the revision. It was a difficult decision, I assure you; however, I received verbal support from my commanders. History has shown that the majority of accidents occur at lift-off or reentry into the atmosphere in which an in-air rescue and extraction team would have little utility. You will still have emergency support on the ground at those times and during your powered flight tests in the coming weeks.

 

“The lives of all Garrison officers, faculty, and students remain of utmost importance, but if we want to continue to push the boundaries of exploration, then this policy change is necessary. Officers accepting missions, henceforth, must do so with the understanding of the inherent risks of space exploration.”

 

“Thank you, Administrator Adisa,” Shiro spoke. “This was previously not explained to me with as much detail and… tact.  Thank you for taking the time to do so.” Shiro stood down. He still felt uneasy but buried it; best not to rock the boat any more. Best not to remain on Iverson’s bad side. Deep space held limitless and unknown possibilities. But unknown possibilities brought unknown threats. Perhaps even a deep space rescue and extraction crew would not be prepared to deal with the unknown.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for typos. And many thanks for the comments and kudos! They seriously make my day.
> 
> And sorry if my ominous, foreboding crap is too melodramatic.  I like it that way ;)
> 
> Also sorry if this chapter is a little choppy, I'm trying to move things along so that this story isn't 50 chapters long.


	25. I wasn't going to charge you, but...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in this corner, weighing in at 175 pounds: Captain Alexander Rivali...
> 
> updated title for this chapter

Keith couldn’t slow the progression of the days and weeks as the launch neared and his fall schedule left little downtime. Shiro’s training schedule had also become more intense so they really only had weekends together when they'd hibernate from the rest of the world.

 

Captain Rivali still emailed Keith every Thursday but Keith’s Thursday evenings were slotted as independent mentorship sessions with preceptors assigned by the aviation department. Keith politely declined Rivali’s offer each week but wondered why the guy was so persistent.

 

\-----

 

It was a Tuesday, second week of the fall quarter, and Keith was sitting at the early dinner seating with Celine, quickly finishing his food before his mentored session. Today, Keith’s assigned preceptor was Medina; Keith hoped Medina had remembered. So far, Keith’s preceptors emailed him in advance for confirmation but he'd gotten no word today. He also wondered how much he'd be able to learn from a sergeant after flying simulations with Shiro and Rivali.

 

“Hey, man!” Keith startled at Medina’s voice behind him.

 

“Hey! I was just getting ready to go to the sim atrium. Wasn’t sure if you remembered.”

 

“Of course! I kinda have to anyway,” he said, pulling up a chair and sitting on it backwards.

 

“Sorry you got roped into this.”

 

“Nah, it’s cool. I don’t mind. What up, Celine?” Celine smiled and returned Medina’s fist bump. “You ready to get going?”

 

They stood up and said goodbye to Celine. Keith dumped the remainder of his tray in the trash and the two headed outside to walk to the flight building. Medina texted on his phone and didn’t say much the first few minutes. That is, until he looked up from his phone as they walked past the recreation building. “Ugh, fucking… ravioli.”

 

Keith was confused. “Uh, cafeteria’s serving spaghetti today…” And then Keith looked up. He felt a tensing in his stomach when he spotted Captain Rivali walking out of the rec center towards them. He shouldered a leather duffel, his hair pulled into a ponytail and tamed with a red bandana headband; he was wearing a plain white undershirt and gray shorts.

 

 _Does Medina hate this guy as well?_ Keith pondered while he unsuccessfully attempted to stare at the pavement; his eyes were too drawn to the exposed tattoo and the parts of the design visible through the threadbare tee.

 

Rivali smirked as they neared. “Hey, Kogane, where’ve you been?”

 

 _Dammit._  Medina stopped and looked at Keith and then back to Rivali.

 

“Aw, ravioli, I don’t get a ‘hello’?” Medina mocked.

 

“Kogane, why didn’t you tell me they were making you  _slum_ it with sergeants…” Rivali sneered at Medina.  _Oh great, this is not looking good._ “Well, at least he can make you some decent tacos afterwards.”

 

Medina rolled his eyes. “I’m not Mexican.”

 

“Same difference,” Rivali answered.

 

“Wow. OK,” Medina spat. “How’s the family pizza shop, Guido?”

 

“Great. Thanks for asking,” Rivali deadpanned. Keith held his breath.  _Are they... joking?_

 

“I was thinking, I’d love to rent your place at the Jersey Shore next summer, can you hook me up?” Medina maintained a small smile while he continued to take shots at Rivali.

 

“Just say the word, hombre,” Rivali said, mispronouncing his Spanish.

 

“The H is silent, ravioli...”

 

Now Rivali rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I don’t know if you’ll like the place, though. I don’t think it gets Telemundo.”

 

“Doesn’t matter, my favorite channel is on whenever I want. Your sister’s ass in my face...” Medina’s haughty, New York accent was starting to come out. He raised his hand to smack Rivali’s sister’s invisible ass in front of him. Keith didn’t know what to do but he tried not to laugh.

 

Rivali scoffed. “Vaffanculo.” The perfect Italian accent that accompanied the insult purred in the back of his throat and went straight to Keith’s core.

 

Medina slowly resumed his stroll to pass Rivali. “I’ve watched enough syndicated Sopranos to know what that means. En español we say, vete a la mierda.”

 

“Thanks for the Spanish lesson,” Rivali said, straight-faced, and then looked over to Keith, “Kogane, hit me up if you need  _real_ flight lessons later.” He then turned and walked away.

 

“Yeah, we’ll let you get to checking off the rest of your to-do list: gym. Tan. Laundry. Hijo de puta,” Medina cursed under his breath. Rivali continued on his way, flipping Medina the bird without looking back. Medina then looked back at Keith. “Um, sorry... That was a little... unprofessional. He’s kind of a dick.” He scratched his head. “You’ve flown with him before?”

 

“Uh, yeah...” Keith didn’t elaborate and followed Medina into the flight building.

 

“He’s not a fan of Shiro’s so I think he just dislikes me by association.”

 

“Or it could be all that shit you say about his sister,” Keith laughed.

 

“Shiiiiit… ya think?” Medina joked.

 

The two checked in at the security desk and walked to their assigned sim. Keith hoped Medina wouldn’t look through his scores to see that he’d flown with Rivali not just once, but twice. And while Shiro was away.

 

Medina powered on the sim while Keith got comfortable and adjusted his seat. “All right… I’m assuming you haven’t flown with any weight yet, right?”

 

“Umm… what do you mean?”

 

“Well, even if you’re not a cargo pilot, there’s always crap you’re lugging around, you’re dropping probes, picking up satellites and shit. Shiro's going to be carrying at least three probes and he’ll have that crazy huge ice drill  _and_ a lunar rover. They’re not just gonna pay you to fly fancy rolls and loop-the-loops in the air, kiddo.”

 

Medina had a point. Keith shrugged. “OK… bring it.”

 

“I’m gonna back-load you with about 800 kilos, OK? We won’t score it, just see what it feels like,” Medina said, adjusting some of the settings. 

 

“OK…” Keith taxied and prepared for takeoff. He pushed the controlstick.  _This isn’t so bad- WHAT THE FUCK?!_ The simulator jolted Keith as the back gave out from under him and crashed to the ground. The sim screen flashed its annoying ‘simulation failed’ message. “What the hell was that??” Keith threw up his hands.

 

“Is that the first time you’ve crashed?!” Medina asked with surprise.

 

“Yeah,” Keith said, still shocked.

 

“Aw, shit. I will  _break_ you, boy!” Medina gloated. “Seriously, though, I’m glad I had a seatbelt on. Damn.” Medina reset the sim. “But, now you know what that weight felt like, so let’s go again.”

 

The second time was a little better, Keith improved his angle of attack but the insufficient pitch and unfamiliar weight kept him from getting out of the atmosphere so he descended and landed inelegantly. “What the hell are you doing to me?” Keith asked Medina, slightly exasperated.

 

“Giving you real-life scenarios,” Medina responded matter-of-factly.

 

“Veta mida! Is that what you said earlier?”

 

Medina laughed at Keith's butchered Spanish. “Vete a la mierda.”

 

“Vete a la mierda,” Keith repeated.

 

“Come on, give it more swagga! More contempt.”

 

Keith laughed. “Vete a la mierda!” he repeated.

 

“Yeah!” Medina praised. Medina coached Keith in the art of swearing in Spanish for a few minutes. “Funny, I had to teach Shiro how to swear correctly in English when I met him. He was such a nerd…” Keith laughed, picturing the two boys, Shiro much younger and more naive, practicing saying curse words.

 

Once they got back to the task at hand, Keith succeeded in taking off on the third try. Keith landed on a generic moonscape and then Medina halved the weight to simulate dropping off a probe and picking up different equipment. Again, Keith had to correct for the change in weight but he was getting the hang of it. After that, Medina tripled the initial weight. The sim just felt so different with the fluctuating weights Keith never had to account for in the past. They finished off with basic evasive maneuvering with the extra weight.

 

Medina’s phone chimed as they wrapped up. “Oh, Keith,” Medina said as he read his message, “I'm supposed to relay the message that Woolf needs you to make a playlist for Shiro’s surprise birthday-slash-going away party. Like, some super epic Shiro songs.”

 

Keiths heart ached for a split second while he thought. “Like some Bon Jovi and Journey and shit?”

 

Medina laughed. “Exactly! Like shit you’d air guitar to!”

 

“Shit  _Shiro_ would air guitar to…”

 

“Dude, everyone feels compelled to air guitar to ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’. Don’t front.”

 

“All right, I’m on it... Thanks for doing this, again. I learned a lot.”

 

“It’s all good, don’t mention it. Let me know if you ever have a cancellation, I could take you out in a small plane sometime. It’s different when you can feel the actual machine and listen to how it responds, it’s an art all on its own, really.”

 

Keith learned to ground his ego that evening. He found that he still had a lot to learn and that he could learn from anyone, no matter their rank. And, there was more to mastering the art of flying than showy maneuvering.

 

\-----

 

On Thursday, Keith walked up to check in at the sim atrium security desk for his mentored session. The security officer knew him by now and simply waved him past the desk. Keith hadn’t heard from his preceptor, Captain Boggs, so he was just going to wait in the sim pod. Keith strolled up and from the side window, he saw a pair of untied boots kicked up on the dash board.

 

Rivali.

 

Keith leaned into the sim from outside and eyed the black Doc Martens on the dash. “Are those standard issue Garrison boots? When do  _I_ get a pair those?”

 

Rivali looked up from his slouched position in the seat and smiled. “They are not standard issue… but no one ever says anything so I wear them from time to time for the hell of it.” He was in another thin white tee, his uniform shirt was balled up on the ground next to his seat, and messy locks of hair spilled over his black headband. “Captain Boggs had to cancel, I told him I could fill in for him. That cool with you?”

 

He really shouldn't be around this guy but he felt drawn to him. He should make up something and say he had to cancel as well. He should walk away. But instead: “Uh, yeah, that’s cool.” He sat down stiffly.

 

“I was thinking we should do some of the maneuvering and chandelles we did last time but with different headwinds.” Rivali sat up in his seat, taking his feet off the dash to start the sim and pull up the scenario he had in mind. “By the way, did you actually learn anything from Pancho Villa?”

 

 _Who the fuck is he talking about?_ “Who?”

 

“Our Latino friend. Danilo Medina. On Tuesday?”

 

“Oh... Yeah, actually, it was good.” Keith didn’t want to dwell on this too long so he changed the subject. “I haven’t done anything with challenging headwinds or turbulence though, so this will be good.”

 

“Right on. Twenty One Pilots sound good to you?” Rivali asked, pulling music up on his phone again.

 

“Yeah, I love that band,” Keith replied.

 

They ran through a few scenarios, Rivali less animated than their prior sessions and the adrenaline rush completely absent this time around. Erikson's concern still nagged at the back of Keith's mind and Keith decided to end their session early. “Hey, so I forgot to tell you before, um, I need to cut out early,” Keith said nervously.

 

“Yeah, that’s no problem. Got somewhere to be?” Rivali said with suspicion.

 

“No… I just need to type up flight logs from these sessions and… I haven’t started any of them yet and I need to get them in soon.” It wasn’t entirely a lie…

 

Rivali shifted to sit on the edge of his seat and face Keith. He reached in front of Keith to power off the sim screen and stayed, hovering on the border of his personal space. “Have you met Captain Boggs before?”

 

“Um, no. I haven’t… I don’t even know what he looks like.”

 

Rivali hummed. “Captain Hamilton?”

 

“Ah… Never heard of him.”  _What’s he getting at?_

 

“Just Shirogane?”

 

“What do you mean?” Keith’s heart rate increased.

 

“I hear you’re around the junior officers’ block fairly often. Just wondering why… Or who...”

 

 _OK, he’s digging too much._ “None of your fucking business.”

 

Rivali snorted. “Fair enough. I just don’t think it’s any of the girls because female officers are a little too high on themselves to go for a cadet.”

 

Keith shrugged. “I… know... a few people. Not doing anything, I don’t know what you’re trying to get at. I need to go, thanks for-” Rivali leaned further in, studying Keith.

 

And Keith hesitated a split second too long.

 

Rivali’s hand suddenly gripped Keith’s hair at the base of his skull and held him firmly in place. He tugged Keith’s head down an inch. “So the rumors aren’t true?”

 

Keith’s stomach dropped.  _Oh shit._ He jerked his head away but Rivali held it in place, forcing it another inch down, Keith’s neck straining at the uncomfortable angle. “What the fuck are you doing?” he spat.

 

“We did less than an hour today so I wasn’t going to charge you, but... there’s the  _other_ two times…”

 

Keith’s heart pounded at an all-time high. What the fuck was going on right now? “Let go,” he gritted through his teeth. He was afraid to take a swing. Afraid of the potential repercussions.

 

“Oh, Keith,” Rivali tsked. “Are you telling me I’ve been wasting my time?” he purred menacingly. Keith jerked his head again and Rivali tightened his grip, curling his lip. The pain spiked along Keith’s skull.

 

They stared each other in the eyes. Keith’s initial rage gave way to fear and finally, he pleaded. “Please don’t…”

 

Rivali let go of Keith’s hair but maintained his glare as Keith stumbled out of the sim as fast as he could, heaving relieved breaths of air. “Kogane.” Rivali’s voice froze him in place. “I’m available next Thursday if you change your mind.”

 

Keith saw red. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Fuck off!” Keith ducked his head back into the sim. “I don’t know how to say that in  _fucking_ Italian.” He stormed off, trying to regain control of his breath, hands trembling, mind racing.

 

The officer at the security desk said goodbye to Keith; he vaguely heard her behind the white noise of rushing blood in his ears. He picked up his pace and ran out of the building, fighting tears.  _I’m so stupid. I'm so fucking stupid._  Without thinking, he went straight to Shiro’s.

 

\-----

 

Keith stood outside of the door. Shiro’s apartment sounded noisier than usual. He could hear the TV through the door and Medina’s loud voice. “Oh! Fucking- Come on, that was a strike you mother fucker…” He also heard Moore laughing in the background; they were apparently watching baseball. Keith contemplated what could happen if he told Shiro. Would he be mad? Would he think that he’d asked for this? Deserved this? What did he actually think would happen, letting himself be alone with someone with motives such as Rivali's? Would he have to report this to Garrison security? Rivali would know it was him and lash out again.

 

What if no one found out? Keith actually considered turning around but dread held him in place until he knocked.

 

Shiro thankfully answered the door. “Keith? What are you-” his eyes widened as he read the panic in Keith’s eyes. “Are you OK?! What… what happened?”

 

Keith just shook his head, audibly swallowing, as Shiro pulled him in and closed the door. For some reason the concern in Shiro’s eyes brought out the tears again. Shiro held Keith’s head with both hands and in a softer voice asked again, “What happened?”

 

From the corner of Keith’s eye, he saw Moore peek his head around the corner and quickly disappear. Moore turned up the volume on the TV as he whispered to Medina.

 

“Shiro, I… I don’t- I’m sorry…”

 

“Keith. Just… what happened?”

 

“Um,” he swallowed again.  _Just tell him._ “Nothing happened, really. I had a sim session with, uh… Captain R-rivali.”

 

Shiro’s jaw clenched but he maintained a calm facade. “OK…”

 

“Um, remember... what that kid said about me when we got in a fight? About me blowing officers for lessons?”

 

“Yeah...” Shiro gritted through his teeth, muscles tensing.

 

“I think that… Rivali thought that rumor was true and was… I don’t know. I guess he expected... something…”

 

Shiro’s eyes widened. “Did he touch you?”

 

“No. No.” Keith tried to calm Shiro down. “Nothing happened. I told him to fuck off and he let go, so-”

 

“Let go? Let go of what?”

 

“My… head, he grabbed my hair… and-”

 

Shiro’s deep breaths became more shallow until his chest barely moved. “I’m going to kill him,” he seethed, moving past Keith.

 

“No!” Keith shouted, grabbing Shiro. “No, Shiro! Nothing happened, I swear. I said ‘no’ and he stopped. Please don’t do anything… Please.”

 

“I’m going to  _fucking_ kill him!” Shiro raised his voice, fury clouding his eyes. “We have to report this… Tell me where Rivali is.” He moved again to get past Keith but a hand from behind pulled him back by the shoulder. It was Medina.

 

“Don’t fuck this up for yourself, Shiro.” He pulled Shiro out of the way and addressed Keith, uncharacteristically serious. “Where is he?”

 

“No, please don’t do anything, Medina.”

 

The ever-present humor in Medina’s eyes was completely absent. “Moore, let’s take a walk,” he called into the living room. “Keith, either I run my ass around the compound until I find him, or you help me out a goddamn second and make this a little easier. Is he in the flight atrium? His office? Did he go home?”

 

Shiro held up his hands. “No, Medina, seriously.”

 

Keith pleaded, “Medina, please don’t do anything, I don't want him to know I said something...”

 

“We’re just gonna talk. I won’t throw a punch unless he does. I won't bring you up Keith, I promise… And I’ll put in an anonymous report afterwards. Where is he?” Medina questioned.

 

“He was in the flight atrium when I left. I don’t know if he’s still there.”

 

“Medina…” Shiro warned.

 

Medina held his hands up as he backed out the door. “Just gonna talk…”

 

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Moore tried to reassure them.

 

Moore followed Medina and the door closed behind him. And then the room was still. Shiro faced Keith again, cupping his jaw. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

 

“Yeah, nothing happened, I swear. I was just… shaken up, I guess… and... needed to see you. It’s… it’s all my fault.”

 

“Keith, it’s not your fault. He’s extremely manipulative.”

 

“Yeah,” Keith exhaled. “Apparently.” He walked into the apartment and collapsed on the couch.

 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Keith.” Shiro furrowed his brow and turned off the baseball game.

 

Keith sighed again and closed his eyes. “I just feel so stupid.” Shiro simply listened and stood in the middle of the room. “I was so… fucking… terrified when I realized what he was insinuating... I felt like I was going to throw up. I should have walked away at the very beginning. It still feels like my fault.”

 

“It's not.” Shiro sat down tentatively on the couch, leaving some space between them. “OK?”

 

Keith nodded. “I'll feel like shit if something happens to Medina.”

 

“Eh… actually, I'd put money on Medina. Rivali fights a lot because he's got a short fuse. But Medina gets that ‘I'm from New York’-thing going at the drop of a hat and mows people down. I’ve seen it happen.” Shiro then chuckled to himself. “I’m gonna need to employ him as your bodyguard while I'm gone.”

 

“That would be funny.” Keith managed a smile. “He won't be around if he goes to Mars though.”

 

“True…”

 

Keith scooted closer to lean into Shiro’s comforting warmth. “I don't know what I’m going to do when you're gone.”

 

Shiro put an arm around Keith and pulled him in, resting his chin on Keith’s head. “You'll be really busy; you’ll be taking advanced classes and getting your pilot's license and…”

 

Keith thought about how different things were since coming into contact with Shiro. “My life has been crazier since I met you. I keep finding myself in ridiculous situations,” he laughed lightly.

 

“You shouldn't have stolen my damn bike, then,” Shiro bantered, kissing Keith's head.

 

“I’d steal it again…” Keith’s voice faltered, on the verge of tears, and Shiro held him even tighter. “Can I have some tea?” Keith sniffled.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Shiro said softly, getting up to fill the electric kettle. It felt like they waited in silence for a while; for what, they were unsure of. Shiro looked at his phone the moment a notification pinged. “Ok… Medina says he's on his way back.”

 

“That's all he said?” Keith questioned. They waited on the couch for another ten minutes until Medina knocked on the door.

 

“System, open door,” Shiro called from the couch.

 

Medina and Moore walked in. No blood, no black eyes. Not a scratch. “What happened?” Keith asked.

 

“Nothing. We talked," Medina started. "He was wrapping some things up in his office. I told him I was in the flight atrium and saw a very distraught-looking cadet walking out of the same sim pod that he left shortly after. I told him to watch himself since I'm tight with the press secretary and that the scenario probably looked suspicious on security tapes. And that I’d be placing an anonymous report… In a nutshell… and with more colorful language, naturally,” he added with a grin.

 

“Did you teach him more Spanish?” Keith chuckled.

 

“Por supuesto. I pulled out a few choice phrases.”

 

“You didn’t have to do that, Medina. Thank you,” Keith said.

 

“Don't thank me. I hate that coward with a passion and he shouldn’t have threatened you like that. Now did my Yanks win or what?”

 

“Ugh, Medina. The outcome of that game was very clear when you left. Not looking good for Oakland,” Shiro lamented.

 

“Yeah!” Medina cheered. Moore shook his head behind him. “You should be rooting for them too, traitor. Don't betray our city,” he accused Moore.

 

“Dude, I'm a Mets fan, I will  _always_ root against the Yankees. I don't care if it's the playoffs.” Moore then looked at Keith. “You sure you’re OK, man?”

 

“Yeah, thanks. I should walk home soon.”

 

“Uh, I'll drive you,” Medina said. “Try to not be out by yourself when it's dark until we know this guy is backing off completely. I think Iverson put him up to it, not exactly...  _that,_ but... I think if he could prove some shit against Shiro then he'd be able to step in and pilot Kerberos.”

 

“Yeah, I got that feeling, too. Just... a little too late,” Keith mumbled.

 

“Not that you’re not a catch, Keith,” Medina joked to lighten things a bit.

 

Keith chuckled, a little embarrassed. “Thanks, Medina…”

 

\-----

 

The following Thursday, Keith did not receive an email from Captain Alexander Rivali.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yep...
> 
> thank you again, i really appreciate everyone's comments <3
> 
> update: avidbeader wrote an awesome alternate scene for this chapter, i suggest reading!! avidbeader really did a fabulous job of integrating my characters and details from older chapters. so amazing. it's a little darker but i think many of us secretly wanted something a little "worse".  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/10545644


	26. We're making banana ice cream pizza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who's ready for some serious cuteness? For all the fluff I’ve written… this might take the cake. I’m serious. I hope it’s not too cheesy but i had fun writing it. And the fluff is make up for the anxiety i may have caused during the previous chapter and for what we all know is ahead :(   Thanks for sticking with me… the end is near...

Keith walked out of his Introduction to Spaceflight class to inhale dinner before his next mentored flight simulation. Roaring in the distance, he heard Shiro’s second atmospheric test flight in progress. The Kerberos launch was in one month.

 

Since the anonymously reported “incident”, the flight school increased security and only allowed those assigned to a simulator to be present in the area; all students undergoing mentored sessions had to confirm their preceptors in advance to reserve the simulation pod. Of course, Commander Iverson ensured that the report was not leaked to the press and scrutinized Erikson’s every move up until launch. And each night when Keith left the sim atrium in the dark, one of Shiro’s friends was waiting to walk with or drive him back to his dorm.

 

\-----

 

“Arigatou.”

 

“Um, arigatou,” Keith parroted.

 

“But, it’s more polite to start off with arigatou gozaimasu. And then you can make it more casual later.”

 

“Arigatou gozai... I’m not going to remember that. But like, your mom understands what ‘thank you’ means, right? Like in English.”

 

“Well, it just sounds like you’re making more of an effort if you say it in Japanese,” Shiro said while he drove his rental car through the repetitive desert highway scenery in California. “And the more formal greeting in the morning is ohayou gozaimasu. But that’s for tomorrow, we’ll be getting in late so you’d say konbanwa.”

 

“Konba…”

 

“Konbanwa.”

 

“You’re making my brain hurt,” Keith complained. “Just remind me before I get out of the car…”

 

“You’ll be fine.”

 

“Um, I _know_ I'll be fine. You’re the one being crazy and making me learn the entire Japanese language. I’m cool with awkward smiling and waving.”

 

“It’ll just mean a lot to her if you try. And I’m not making you learn the entire language…”

 

“I don’t have to bow, do I?”

 

“It’s too complex to go through all the intricacies… Well, maybe just bow if she does.”

 

“Oh my god, Shiro…” Keith took a deep breath and looked out the window. This trip was initially supposed to just be Keith meeting Aunt Miyako and the millions of cousins. Which was manageable. Sort of- there were lots of children to deal with. But Shiro’s father surprised his mother with a last-minute plane ticket to spend more time with her son before Kerberos. And she did not speak English whatsoever. And this complicated things immensely. Keith was prepared for the awkwardness, but now Shiro seemed nervous and it was making things worse.

 

“I’m a little disappointed I don’t get to meet _Mr_. Shirogane,” Keith teased, quirking an eyebrow and attempting to ease the tension.

 

“Stop…” Shiro smiled and shook his head.

 

\-----

 

Hours later they pulled into a very suburban neighborhood, complete with fences, swingsets, golden retrievers, and manicured lawns dotted with autumn leaves. It was like TV; the neighborhoods featured in family sitcoms that Keith had never actually seen or experienced in real life. Shiro parked in the driveway of a moderately-sized white house that looked pretty much like all of the other houses to Keith. The sun was beginning to set and Keith could feel the November evening’s chill radiating from the car window.

 

The familiar horde of five kids ran out of the front door while Keith pulled on his coat. Shiro met them around the car and pretended that they were heavy enough to tackle him on the lawn. “Takashi!” they all screamed, laughing as they piled on.

 

“Agh! Who kicked me in the ribs?” Shiro tried to sit up as the kids kept trying to push him over. Keith laughed at the spectacle. “OK, guys, you’re scaring Keith,” Shiro laughed. He stood up, keeping one of the girls slung over his shoulder before putting her down while she giggled.

 

Keith looked to the front door and recognized Aunt Miyako. Next to her, a slightly younger woman was standing in the doorway smiling: Shiro’s mother, Yukimi. The kids began running towards Keith; he tried not to freeze up but for some reason five children running in his direction was terrifying.

 

“Hey! No tackling the guest!” Shiro called and they stopped in their tracks while the two women made their way down the walkway.

 

“Takashi,” Shiro’s mother said as she held his face and then embraced him lovingly.

 

“Konbanwa Okasan.”

 

Then Aunt Miyako hugged him. “Hello, love.”

 

“Hi, Aunt Miyako.”

 

“Anna and Brandon are on their way from work, they should be here soon. Is this the boy?” Miyako asked, nodding in Keith's direction.

 

Shiro looked back at Keith, grinning. “Yes, this is the boy.” The kids introduced themselves first. Keith tried to remember them in order of age: Lina (10), Ellie (8), Jacob (6), Jenna (5), and Lara (3). Lara smiled shyly, clinging to Shiro's leg, and then shared her half-eaten cookie with Keith.

 

“Umm… thank you?” Keith did _not_ know how to interact with children at all.

 

Aunt Miyako came up next. “No, no. Lara, no. That’s yucky.” She laughed, taking the cookie from Keith. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Keith,” she said in her slight accent, giving him a hug.

 

“Nice to meet you, um... Aunt? Miyako?”

 

“You can call me Aunt Miyako if you want. Or just Miyako.”

 

Shiro’s mother approached Keith and he remembered his line: “Konbanwa.” She bowed her head slightly then, smiling, she took both of his hands in hers, studying his face. She looked back at Shiro and said something in Japanese.

 

Shiro smiled. “She says you have beautiful eyes.”

 

Keith blushed. “Oh, um. Thank you. No wait, ah- Arigatou gozaimasu.”

 

“Ah!” Shiro’s mother acted surprised and gave him a bigger smile and patted his cheek.

 

“Oh, that’s all I know how to say.” Keith laughed nervously. Shiro translated and she laughed.

 

“Hajimemashite,” she said before asking Shiro a question in Japanese.

 

“Keith,” Shiro responded.

 

“Ah, Keisu,” she attempted to repeat.

 

“Ie. Ie. KeiTH,” Shiro said, emphasizing the ~th ending.

 

“Keeeeszu.”

 

Shiro shook his head again, chuckling. He talked to her for a bit and finally got her to drop the added syllable at the end.

 

“Keiszt.”

 

Shiro sighed and looked at Keith. “Uh, that’s as good as it’s going to get right now.”

 

Keith chuckled. “I don’t mind, whatever..”

 

Mrs. Shirogane gestured at herself. “Yukimi.”

 

“Yukimi,” Keith repeated. “Um... Douzo yoroshikou…”

 

“Onegaishimasu,” Shiro completed for Keith.

 

“Yeah, what he said,].” Keith pointed at Shiro and Yukimi laughed when Shiro translated again.

 

They finally walked inside and Shiro hung his and Keith’s coats in a closet. “Takashi.” Aunt Miyako sounded like she was scolding him already.

 

“What?! I just walked in the door?” Shiro said defensively.

 

“I don’t like all this muscle. It’s too much, you’re getting too big,” she criticized.

 

“Oh jeez. It’s fine. I’m going to lose half of it in space anyway,” Shiro reasoned.

 

“Really?” Keith whispered.

 

“Not half but, ten to twenty percent. You can exercise on the ship but between the food, space adaptation syndrome, and muscle atrophy from being in zero-gravity… you lose a good amount of weight.”

 

“Huh… I never thought about that,” Keith said as he wondered what Shiro would look like when he returned a year later.

 

“Still, Takashi. Too much. Tell him, Keith., Miyako said, walking past and into the kitchen.

 

Keith grinned and shook his head in mocking disapproval. “Too much, Takashi…”

 

“Sounds weird when you say my actual name,” Shiro laughed and then looked down. “Aww! Nikko!!” Shiro bent over to pick up an old, fat black cat. “I can’t believe how old she’s gotten!” The cat just sat in Shiro’s arms and purred, glaring at Keith. Cats were another thing that Keith wasn’t sure he got along with. Kids and cats… actually pets in general… And people in general. Shiro cocked an eyebrow, watching Keith’s expression. “Pet her, don’t make her sad.”

 

“She seems perfectly happy with you,” Keith reasoned but Shiro gave him a ridiculous pouty face. “OK…” Keith patted the cat on the head stiffly. “Hi… kitty.”

 

Lara ran up and handed Keith an _un_ eaten cookie this time. “Ah, OK, thank you,” Keith said.

 

She then gestured at Shiro for the cat. “I don’t think you can carry her, Lara.”

 

“She does it all the time,” said Jacob. Shiro handed over the cat and she dragged it on the floor to the couch.

 

“That cat doesn’t give a shit,” Keith laughed. Then he realized he’d cursed in front of the kids. “Oh f-...” He covered his mouth as Shiro shot him a look. “I’m bad at this...”

 

They gathered in the kitchen as Shiro caught up with his aunt and mother; the oldest, Lina, helped distribute tea to everyone. Jenna and Lara, still dragging the cat, came up to Keith. “Can you play with us?”

 

Keith looked over nervously at Shiro, who just smiled mischievously at him from across the kitchen counter. _No help at all._ “Um… I... guess. I don’t know how. I haven’t played in a long time.”

 

Jenna gave him a confused look. “You just play.”

 

Keith looked to Shiro for help again. “You just play,” Shiro repeated. “Just ask them questions about what you’re playing: what the bear's name is, or what the bear’s favorite color is… Just ask them questions. There’s no rules.”

 

 _Great, thanks for nothing…_ “Come on!” Jenna grabbed Keith’s hand and pulled him into a room off of the living area that was converted into a playroom for the kids. She handed him a stuffed animal and started gathering plastic utensils from her play-kitchen. “We’re playing restaurant.”

 

“OK… what are we making?” Keith set the animal down next to him.

 

“Pizza!”

 

 _Just ask questions._ “What... kind of pizza?”

 

“I’m making chocolate and spaghetti pizza. What kind do you want to make?”

 

Keith laughed. _What the fuck?!_ “Oh, um.. I’m going to make… banana… ice cream pizza.”

 

“Oooh! I like that kind of pizza.”

 

Keith laughed again. “Yeah, you get it often?” Lara dragged the cat over to Keith and it immediately climbed in his lap. _Oh my god…_

 

“Nikko is our customer!” Jenna declared. “Lara, what pizza are you making?”

 

“Mmm… Coconut cupcake pizza. It’s for princess Nikko,” she said, putting accessories on the cat.

 

Eventually Shiro poked his head in. “Whatcha doing?” Keith realized how ridiculous he looked wielding a purple spatula with a black cat wearing a tiara in his lap.

 

“Um, we are making banana ice cream pizza,” Keith stated matter-of-factly.

 

“Ah. Sounds _really_ good,” Shiro acted. “Do you guys put the ice cream on and then bake it?”

 

“Yes!” Lara confirmed.

 

“Is there still cheese on it?” Shiro wrinkled his nose at Keith.

 

“Yes,” Keith deadpanned. “There’s cheese and sauce. I put it on myself.”

 

“Here ‘Kashi, try it!” Lara held up a green plate for Shiro.

 

Shiro took a pretend bite of his pizza. “Mmmm, this is really good. Good job, Keith. Girls, can I borrow Keith for a little bit so he can meet your mom?”

 

The girls reluctantly consented but Nikko did not. “This cat won’t get off of me,” Keith complained. Shiro laughed and picked the cat up, carrying her out of the room while Keith followed. Shiro’s cousin Anna and her husband, Brandon had arrived and were in the kitchen greeting Shiro’s mother. Anna looked to be about ten years older than Shiro.

 

“Ahh! This is Keith!? Hi! I’m Anna. I have plenty of funny stories for you! And pictures!” she said, immediately hugging him.

 

“I think I might enjoy that,” Keith responded.

 

Brandon came up to Keith next. “Ah, another half-Asian,” he joked, shaking Keith’s hand. “I made an entire army of them,” he gestured to the kids watching TV. “Are you Japanese, too?”

 

“No, Korean-ish,” Keith said, watching the kids sing along with a song on TV.

 

“Oh, great. I’m not the only one that doesn’t understand when they get going in Japanese. My wife’s always trying to teach me stuff but it never sticks,” Brandon said.

 

“Yeah, Shir-uh… Takashi started teaching me some stuff, but I’ve only got down the bare minimum. And I wouldn't even say I've got it down.”

 

Shiro’s mother and Aunt Miyako prepared dinner while the group sat around the table. Anna grabbed her mother’s tablet, sat next to Keith, and began scrolling through her photo cloud. “OK, Keith, you ready? This is Takashi going to the eighth grade dance.”

 

Keith nearly spit out his tea. “This is amazing!” Shiro covered his eyes and hunched over in his seat. “This is so cute. Your date’s dress is a little crazy, though.”

 

“That was the style then” Anna said, snatching the tablet back. “Let me see what else I can find. My mom’s a professional photographer so we’ve got a ton of photo documentation for you… This is one of Takashi’s little league games. Oh! I forgot he ran track, too! Look at his little track shorts,” Anna pointed and snickered.

 

Shiro looked at Brandon. “Should we go to the pub? I don’t think I can handle this.”

 

Aunt Miyako called from the kitchen, “You two are not going anywhere! Dinner is ready!”

 

“Come on, kids! Time to eat!” Anna corralled her five children to the table while Keith finished going through some more hilarious pictures of thirteen-year-old Shiro. The enormous cat meowed at Keith from the floor and jumped up into his lap again. _What the fuck is up with this cat?_ Anna tried lifting Nikko out of Keith’s lap but she dug her claws into Keith’s leg and refused to move. “I swear this cat only likes men,” Anna observed.

 

The family plus Keith crammed around the table and the conversation immediately started in Japanese. Shiro tried translating but couldn’t keep up so Keith ate silently. The food Shiro’s mother had made was amazing; Shiro was right, there was something about his mother’s rice. Something about it tasted better than even Shiro’s rice. And that was saying something.

 

After dinner, Anna and Brandon gathered the kids to drive home. They all complained and wanted to spend the night. “You all have school tomorrow! Maybe grandma will let you stay tomorrow night.”

 

Sleeping arrangements were as Keith expected: Shiro and Keith in separate rooms. Shiro was in his old room although it was decorated for Jacob, now. The other two rooms only had bunkbeds for the girls so Keith would be sleeping on the pull-out in the finished basement. Shiro’s mom would sleep with Aunt Miyako.

 

Shiro gathered linens to help Keith make his bed in the basement. Once they were down the basement stairs, Shiro pinned Keith against the wall. “You were so cute playing with the kids,” Shiro said, mouthing along Keith’s collarbone.

 

Keith giggled. “Didn’t realize that was a turn-on for you.”

 

“Wish you could sleep with me, but there’s only a twin bed in Jacob’s room.”

 

“It’s all good, I can’t think about anything sexual with your mom and aunt around.”

 

“No?” Shiro ground his hips into Keith’s.

 

“I don’t know where you think you’re going with this.”

 

“I know...” Shiro groaned, stepping away to give Keith some space.

 

Shiro tucked Keith in and kissed him goodnight before heading up the basement stairs. Nikko of course bounded down the stairs and jumped up on Keith, curling up on his chest. “This fucking cat,” Keith grumbled.

 

Shiro laughed. “She likes you.”

 

“She knows I’m not into cats and she’s rubbing it in my face.”

 

Shiro left the door cracked and turned off the light. Keith tried to sleep among the unfamiliar sounds and smells of the house. And the cat... purring very loudly on top of him. He turned to the side and dumped the cat off of him so he could lie on his stomach. _Success!_ Keith thought to himself. Then Nikko climbed back on and got comfortable on his butt. _Goddammit…_

 

\-----

 

Keith awoke the next morning and heard voices in the kitchen, including Shiro’s, which indicated that it was safe for him to go upstairs. Keith padded up the stairs and was greeted by everyone. Oh, wait. What was his other line? “Ohayou gozaimasu,” he said, waving to Shiro’s mother.

 

She smiled. “Ohayou,” she returned with a slight nod, patting Shiro’s arm, obviously touched that Keith was trying to speak Japanese to her. Shiro winked at Keith.

 

“So… food is ready but they made a very traditional Japanese breakfast, so I can make you something different if you want,” Shiro offered as he got up from the kitchen table.

 

“Um, no, it’s cool, I’ll try the traditional breakfast.”

 

“Uh… I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

 

“No, I’ll eat it,” Keith insisted. He could earn more mom-points that way.

 

“It’s like, fish and soup and stuff…” Shiro warned Keith as his aunt set up small bowls and plates in front of Keith. Keith recognized the obvious: rice and miso soup. It was a little weird to have a piece of grilled fish in front of him for breakfast, however. And then there was a very questionable bowl…

 

Shiro read Keith’s mind, naturally. “It’s natto.”

 

“Is this going to be my next kimchi experience?” Keith raised an eyebrow. It smelled, it was stringy. “I can eat the rest of this stuff but… I don’t know about this...”

 

“Just try it,” Shiro encouraged. “You were the one who insisted…”

 

Keith stared it down, gathering the courage. Shiro’s mother grabbed the bowl and said something in Japanese to Shiro. Shiro laughed. “She said, ‘Tell him I don’t like this stuff either.’”

 

Keith breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief and Shiro’s mother laughed and then said something else to Shiro. “She said she’ll make you pancakes tomorrow.”

 

“Oooh. Arigatou gozaimasu,” Keith said. He ate and, although the food in front of him was good, it just felt weird eating it first thing in the morning.

 

Shiro sat down next to Keith while his mother and aunt walked out to the garden to have their tea. “How’d you sleep?”

 

“Meh. I stirred a lot. The cat slept well though, she was on top of me all night. So, you know, I’m glad that worked out for her.” Shiro laughed and Keith continued, “There was actually one point, where she was lying on my neck. On my _fucking_ neck. Like, was she trying to suffocate me? I don't- Are all these animals like this?”

 

Shiro’s eyes teared up from laughing at Keith’s ongoing cat predicament. “When I was young, I had to lock her out of my room when I was doing homework for school because she would just lie on my computer while I was typing. But not as bad as she is with you.”

 

“Damn cat’s got it in for me,” Keith joked. “Oh, speak of the fucking devil.” Nikko jumped in Keith’s lap. Shiro put his head down on the table and laughed more, shoulders shaking.

 

“I’m glad you’re entertained,” Keith complained.

 

Shiro’s mother walked in and observed Shrio laughing at Keith. She shooed the cat away, smacked Shiro on the head, and patted Keith on the shoulder.

 

“Hey! I think she likes you better,” Shiro fake-scowled at Keith.

 

“Your cat likes me better, too,” Keith teased.

 

“If I would’ve known you were such a cat person I would’ve gotten you all kinds of _Hello Kitty_ stuff when I was in Japan.”

 

“I’m _not_ a cat person!”

 

\-----

 

They lounged around the house all morning and then took Shiro’s mom to Woodward Park. Afterwards, they returned to the house and Nikko took a nap with Keith. It was relaxing to do nothing. Relaxing, that is, until Anna returned with her kids that evening. Luckily Jacob got to Keith first and they played with Legos which didn’t require him to use his rusty imagination to come up with conversations for dolls or crazy concoctions for pizza. Shiro joined in and they tried building a helicopter to launch from the top of the stairs until they were scolded by Aunt Miyako to stop throwing things over the banister.

 

That night, the entire group went to a Japanese restaurant owned by family friends to celebrate Shiro's upcoming birthday. Additional cousins, aunts, and uncles were also there. The entire event was a little overwhelming for Keith. He met fourteen more family members whose names he would not remember later. The entire staff of the restaurant knew Shiro’s family as well, and Keith had to say “Konbanwa” to even more people while they took pictures with Shiro and wished him luck on his mission. They ordered an enormous family-style dinner and Keith was served fish with the head still on, grilled octopus, and bowls of rice topped with salmon roe. “You doing OK?” Shiro whispered, leaning in.

 

“Yeah… “ Today was a bit of a crazy food day. Keith picked around the fish eggs for grains of rice. “Looking forward to pancakes tomorrow morning. Tell your mom I’m going to eat at least thirty.”

 

Shiro kissed Keith on the head and hooked their ankles. “I’ll order you a bowl of ramen.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me they had that shit? You’ve been holding out on me. You _love_ torturing me with food,” Keith complained with a smile.

 

“You’re doing _very_ well.”

 

“Thanks…” Keith mumbled as Shiro flagged down the staff to order “normal” food for Keith.

 

\-----

 

Aunt Miyako agreed to let the kids spend the night which intimidated Keith but wound up being manageable. Shiro read books to the younger two and Keith answered questions about flight school while he worked on a puzzle with the older three.

 

Afterwards they crowded onto the couch to watch a movie. The kids argued but they all finally agreed on _Finding Nemo_. Keith leaned his head on Shiro with Jenna lying across both of them. Jacob had already dozed off and was leaning into Keith, possibly drooling, but Keith tried not to think about it. Ellie sat next to Shiro with Lara in her lap and Lina was on the floor at their feet. And Nikko was lying along the back of the couch behind Keith, smugly swishing her tail in his face. Eventually he recognized the steady breathing of all the children once they’d fallen asleep. Shiro looked over and smiled before he leaned in to softly kiss Keith. Keith unfortunately had to protest, “I can’t make out with you when there are kids and cats piled on top of us.”

 

Shiro chuckled. “Fine …” and shifted so he could take a turn to rest his head on Keith’s shoulder and eventually he fell asleep as well. Apparently this was what it was like to be part of a family. Or maybe to have a family of your own... The anxiety Keith had initially felt at the beginning of the trip was replaced with contentment and an odd sense of belonging. Shiro’s family had accepted Keith with virtually no questions asked. Keith stopped paying attention to the movie as his mind wandered yet again to what he’d do when Shiro was gone and wondered if they had a future together. How much would be different after a year?

 

\-----

 

Without even thinking, Keith made the mistake of getting up before Shiro the next morning. He walked upstairs, carrying the cat, to find only Shiro’s mother in the kitchen drinking her tea, probably suffering from jet lag. _Oh great… This might be uncomfortable._ Mrs. Shirogane smiled when she saw Keith. _And… too late to go back downstairs..._

 

She gestured towards the pancake batter she’d already prepared. Keith sat at the kitchen table and watched her make the fluffiest pancakes he’d ever seen and eaten. She ate with him and they giggled from time to time when they looked up at each other, unable to converse whatsoever. It was sweet but painfully awkward.

 

Eventually she gestured for him to wait and she left the room, returning with her tablet. She spent some time locating what she wanted to find and finally turned the tablet to Keith, smiling mischievously. It was a baby picture of Shiro.

 

“Oh my god!” Keith exclaimed even though he knew Mrs. Shirogane couldn’t understand him. She laughed at his expression and then located more pictures of Shiro: running around in a diaper in the backyard, walking to preschool in a ridiculous uniform, working on a model plane with what Keith assumed was his father ( _hot damn_ ).

 

Eventually Miyako and the kids joined them. After the kids ate, they required a minimal amount of convincing from Keith to go jump on Shiro. They snuck upstairs with the cat and Keith laughed as Shiro was startled awake by five children jumping on his tiny bed and a cat placed ever-so-strategically on his head.

 

Shiro held Jacob upside down for interrogation. “Whose idea was it? Lina’s? Keith’s?” Jacob just laughed and squirmed in response.

 

Shiro picked up as many children as he could hold and piled them outside of the room and then chased the last two out. Keith laughed even harder when the cat wouldn’t get off the bed for Shiro to lie back down. Shiro tossed the cat and then pulled Keith down onto the bed with him. “How do you sleep on this?” Keith giggled, “You’re too big for this bed.”

 

“No shit…” Shiro grumbled, spooning Keith.

 

“Come on, everyone else is up.”

 

“Huh uh,” Shiro whined, squeezing Keith tighter.

 

“I don’t know why you need more sleep, you got plenty on the couch last night. I had three different people drooling on me, including you,” Keith fake-complained.

 

“I thought you liked that,” Shiro teased, licking behind his ear, running his hand over Keith’s hip, grinding suggestively into Keith’s ass.

 

“OK… no. Your aunt is going to come up here and catch us and...” Keith said, trying to push Shiro away with his butt.

 

Shiro held Keith’s hip tightly. “It’s been a while,” he moaned.

 

“Uh, yeah, but we’re in a house with five kids that could come crashing into your room again at any moment. And your aunt and your mom will hear us.” Keith looked up from the bed. “And there’s a cat watching us.” Nikko was sitting on the sleeping bag Jacob had used last night, looking at them expectantly.

 

Shiro peeked over Keith at the cat; he whined and rolled his hips harder, already semi-erect. “Just- I’ll be really fast…”

 

“Oh my god, no. No quickies at your aunt’s house. Everyone’s awake!”

 

“I don’t care.” Shiro’s voice was muffled in the back of Keith’s neck. He rocked his pelvis again.

 

“ _I_ care…”

 

Shiro groaned as he released Keith and bullied him out of the bed. “Go on... Get out of here. Take your damn cat.”

 

Keith laughed, scooping up ‘his’ cat. “Come on Nikko.”

 

\-----

 

After Shiro finally got up, they took the kids to the playground and out to lunch. Keith hadn’t sat on a swing in the longest time. Shiro took turns pushing Ellie and Keith on the swings and then Shiro and Keith sat on the swings while the kids ran around, Lina supervising the little ones. “I feel like I’m going to break this swing.” Shiro looked up at the chains.

 

“It definitely wasn’t creaking like that when Ellie was on it,” Keith teased.

 

“Eh, I’ll take my chances. You still surviving?” Shiro asked.

 

“Yeah, this isn’t too bad. Your mom showed me some pictures this morning…”

 

Shiro narrowed his eyes. “What kind of pictures?”

 

Keith snickered. “Some baby pics... Really incriminating stuff.”

 

“Ugh, Mom…”

 

“You were a really cute kid. This kid stuff in general is growing on me. I thought kids were all just gross and whiny, and perpetually leaking snot. It’s crazy that they’re just entertained all the time. And they’re not self-conscious at all; they can play with anything or anyone. It’s just… Why do we forget how to just… play? Why is it so hard when you get older?”

 

Shiro looked over at the kids running and screaming, even Lina, who tried very hard to be in charge. “Our brains just work differently after a while… After school, and work, and... life. I don’t know...”

 

\-----

 

That night Shiro made pizzas (normal pizza, without chocolate, ice cream, or cupcake toppings) with the kids for dinner.

 

Anna and Keith sat on the couch with a bottle of wine while Anna tried to remember some funny stories. “OK, so Brandon and I were dating when I started grad school and he’s a huge classic rock buff so he tried introducing Takashi to classic American bands when he first moved here.

 

“When Takashi discovered the Doors, it was _crazy_ . He was _obsessed_. And I made the mistake of buying him a digital video library of live performances for his birthday that year. I’d be working on my thesis and I always had to yell at him to turn his music down and I was pregnant with Lina so that made me even crankier. So one day he played “The End” so many times, I thought I was going to lose it. It’s already, like, a twelve-minute song to begin with. I was so annoyed after about forty minutes that I didn’t knock, I just walked in… and I caught him, you know…”

 

Keith's eyes were wide. “Oh no...”

 

“Yeah, jerking off to Jim Morrison’s... leather pants, pelvic thrusting, like… oh my god. So, needless to say, I stayed away from his room when the Doors were playing.”

 

Keith almost rolled off the couch laughing. “Oh my god, this is good ammo... What else ya got?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know… Oh! Takashi got suspended once.”

 

“For what?!”

 

“He beat up a bully for picking on these two other kids when he was fifteen. He didn’t even know any of the kids, he just did it out of principle. He said the kid deserved it and the school agreed but they had to give him a one-day suspension anyway.”

 

“Aww, defender of nerds.”

 

“I know, he was so cute,” Anna said, thinking. “OK, _here's_ a good one. He had a stint where he was hanging out with this questionable group from the track team during the summer break. He came home one night, _crazy_ high. Well, let me rephrase. He was slightly high but he’d had some edible-something... that hadn't kicked in yet. So an hour later he comes into my room _geeking_ out.”

 

“Oh, shit!!!” Keith laughed. “Oh my god, this is the kind of story I've been _waiting_ for!!”

 

“He was rocking on my bed, rambling, like, ‘Am I going to die? Do you hate me? What if I don’t get into the Galaxy Garrison? What am I doing with my life? Should I go back to Japan?’ He was _so_ paranoid, it was hilarious. And he carried on for an hour like this.”

 

“That's amazing.” Keith stared wide-eyed at Anna.

 

“I think that scared him enough so I’m pretty sure that was the _only_ time he did that. He was really a sweet kid though. When Lina was born, Brandon and I weren't married yet and I was still working on my master’s. Takashi was a huge help taking care of her. He’s so great with the kids...” Anna looked back and smiled at Shiro and the kids putting toppings on their pizzas. “He’ll be such a great dad,” she said quietly, mostly to herself.

 

Anna and Keith finished their bottle of wine and then joined the rest to eat the pizza the kids had made. The kids wanted to spend the night again and Anna decided to stay as well, so she crashed on the living room couch.

 

\-----

 

Keith lay awake on his small pull-out, looking at Nikko’s glowing eyes in the dark as she kneaded the blanket covering him. He took too long of a nap after lunch and now he couldn’t sleep. The basement door creaked open and Shiro’s silhouette came down the stairs.

 

“What are you doing?” Keith whispered.

 

“Jacob talks in his sleep. I’ve been awake for an hour.” Shiro nudged Keith and Nikko over so he could lie down. “This cat seriously loves you.”

 

“I don’t know why,” Keith mumbled.

 

“Because you’re sweet,” Shiro said, kissing the back of Keith’s neck.

 

“She’s just an attention whore,” Keith complained. Shiro hummed contentedly and his hand wandered to grope Keith. “You are so _horny_ today, jeez,” Keith whispered. Shiro sat up and tipped Keith flat on his back so he could straddle him. “Seriously, your cousin can probably hear…”

 

“No, she can’t,” Shiro whispered.

 

“Yes, she can.” Shiro attempted to silence Keith’s half-assed protests by pulling off his t-shirt. “Oh god…”

 

Shiro placed the palm of Keith’s hand over Shiro’s obvious erection in his lounge pants and rolled his hips for more friction. “Seriously,” Keith hissed. “Damn you…”

 

Shiro pulled Keith’s other hand up to his mouth and sucked on each of his fingers, continuing to roll his hips into Keith’s hand.  “Shiro, I can’t do this. Not here…”

 

Shiro removed Keith’s hand from his mouth and dragged it down his goddamned gorgeous chest.

 

Keith whined; this was torture. “I know… I know… you’re, ngh, very sexy but…” His hardening length betrayed him as Shiro smirked down at him knowingly. “Ah. Cousins… and… other family members... nearby… “

 

“Then you’ll just have to be quiet…” Shiro grabbed both of Keith’s hands in one of his, pinning them overhead. Shiro ran one hand hungrily up Keith's torso, hiking his tee up along the way.

 

“Fuck, Shiro. I’m serious,” Keith whined again while Shiro nipped along his jawline.

 

“Mmm, but I _really_ want you.” Shiro ground into Keith.

 

“I want the damn cat to leave me alone, but we don't always get what we want.” Shiro’s laugh rumbled through Keith. “Shhhh!!!” Keith scolded and giggled. “You are being _so_ bad right now!”

 

“What happens if I'm bad?” Shiro’s sexy hip roll was killing Keith.

 

Keith suppressed a moan and squirmed to see if he could get his hands loose. “Nothing. Nothing happens if you're bad...”

 

Shiro paused to look Keith in the eye and give him his best pouty face.

 

“Not gonna work on me. I can't do anything with all this family, seriously.”

 

Shiro groaned and gave in. “Fine…” He leaned in and sucked Keith’s earlobe. “But I'm having my way with you when we stop in Death Valley on the way back.”

 

Keith actually blushed. The want in Shiro's voice was dizzying. “OK…” He then bucked his hips to get Shiro off of him. “Now go back to your room.”

 

“Yes, sir…” Shiro chuckled and kissed Keith before heading back upstairs.

 

\-----

 

Mrs. Shirogane made some amazing breakfast the next morning. Whoever invented ‘omelette rice’ was a fucking genius and/or hero in Keith’s eyes. “Why don’t you make me this shit for breakfast?” Keith muttered to Shiro.

 

“Why don’t you make _me_ breakfast?” Shiro retorted with a smirk.

 

After breakfast, Shiro packed up the car. Keith didn’t want to return to reality just yet. Luckily they were breaking up the drive back with an overnight stay in Death Valley and Keith had some Doors songs already picked out for later.

 

Keith hugged the kids and Aunt Miyako. “Are you sure you don’t want to take Nikko with you? I think she’ll get depressed when she realizes you’re gone,” Miyako joked.

 

“Oh, I’m good. I don’t think I can have a cat in my dorm anyway…” Keith laughed. OK, he might miss the cat a little.

 

Shiro’s mother gave Keith a hug. She smiled her warm smile and spoke to Keith in Japanese for Shiro to translate. “She says that, when I get back, you should come with me to Japan.”

 

Keith smiled and nodded. “OK. Arigatou.” He walked over to the car and leaned on the passenger door to give Shiro some time with his family.

 

Shiro’s mother’s eyes welled up while he bid farewell to his aunt and cousins one by one. When he got to her, she held his face, taking in his eyes that resembled hers, his smile that resembled his father’s. She whispered, gesturing something that resembled, “Please be safe.”

 

Shiro nodded. “Daisuki.” I love you. He then embraced his mother for the last time.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated note: if you would like to read about what happens in Death Valley, I wrote a smutty flashback in Part 4 of this series, chapter 2. Enjoy ;)


	27. And then you were gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So according to the voltron wiki page, Shiro’s bday is in feb but i wanted him to turn 24 before he left and thought his bday would be in november anyway when i first started writing this monster.

Keith finished curating Shiro’s playlist for the party that Friday night. There was one song that he hovered between including and not including. He kept it in a secondary playlist with additional songs he could throw in if the mood was right…

 

Keith told himself he didn't need that label. The “L-word.” He and Shiro were happy together and Shiro wanted to resume their relationship when he returned as long as Keith wanted to. So, what did a label matter at this point? It would probably make Shiro's departure more painful. So the word was left unspoken.

 

But... something nagged at Keith in the back of his mind. He wanted to play the song to see if it grabbed Shiro’s attention. For some reason Keith wanted to know even though he told himself that it didn't matter. He'd see how the night went, maybe he wouldn’t even play it at all.

 

Keith got dressed. Since quitting smoking, he (surprise!) had extra money from the weekly stipend he received from the Garrison as part of his scholarship. Keith took the bus last week with Celine to go shopping and couldn't afford leather pants (Keith was loving this Jim Morrison revelation) but Celine talked him into picking up a pair of coated black denim. He pulled them on and they were _so_ fucking tight but they looked pretty damn good. He pulled on a dark gray tee and threw on his coat.

 

Keith was also able to save enough money to take Shiro out to dinner for his birthday last weekend. He knew there was nothing material he could buy for Shiro. He’d learned early on that Shiro valued experiences over “things”.

 

Keith could see his breath in the cool night air as he walked over to the junior officers’ block. He waited on the corner to meet Shiro and Moore. The plan was to tell Shiro that they were all going out to grab one last drink at Radio Bar before Shiro’s launch. They’d swing by to pick up Erikson and Woolf where everyone would be gathered to surprise Shiro.

 

These were the hardest moments when it came down to quitting smoking. The down time. Waiting. Keith fidgeted and looked at his phone. He looked around; no sign of Moore or Shiro. Plenty of students and officers were out and about, heading into town or to the neighboring houses for parties.

 

The other difficult aspect of standing idle was Keith’s mind lately. It went into panic mode with the countdown to the Kerberos launch and the mere days he had left. Tonight he had to suppress that and be happy for Shiro. He could panic tomorrow when it was his last weekend. The launch wasn’t until the following weekend but the ship's onboard crew members were quarantined for eight days prior in a chamber at Mission Control while they underwent their final intensive training.

 

Keith looked around for a distraction and then heard a familiar voice. A voice he didn’t want to ever hear again. Especially while he was alone. He whipped around and saw Captain Rivali heading out of the compound with a group of engineers and a couple of female officers. He slowed when he saw Keith. Keith pretended not to notice how Rivali looked him up and down. _Stupid shiny pants._

 

“Kogane…” Rivali nodded.

 

“Captain…” Keith begrudgingly acknowledged his presence. Of course this asshole looked like a gorgeous rockstar in his leather jacket.

 

Rivali pulled out a cigarette. “You smoke, right? Got a light?”

 

“Uh, sorry. I quit.”

 

Rivali smirked. “Shirogane’s gotten to you, hasn’t he?”

 

“No,” Keith’s blood built up to a rolling boil. “There is _nothing_ between him and me. I don’t know what the _fuck_ you think is going on.”

 

Rivali crossed his arms. “Kogane, I don’t think. I _know_.”

 

“Sure. Whatever,” Keith dismissed with a wave of his hand, trying not to make it obvious that everything Rivali said shook Keith to the core.

 

“Who are you waiting for?”

 

“Some friends…”

 

“Going to Erikson’s party for Shirogane?”

 

“Yeah…” Best not to lie about it, half of the officers on campus were going.

 

“I’m a little disappointed I wasn’t invited,” Rivali mocked.

 

Keith shrugged. “Erikson decided the guest list from what I’ve heard.”

 

One of the girls in the group was getting impatient. “Alex, come on!”

 

Keith then spotted Moore hurrying down the sidewalk and felt instant relief. “Evening, Captain,” Moore greeted, obviously and superficially attempting to respect Rivali’s rank.

 

“Evening, Sergeant,” Rivali returned with the same level of fake cordiality. “We were just leaving. Enjoy the party, tell Shirogane I said ‘hi’.”

 

“Will do,” Moore said, responding for Keith.

 

Rivali’s eyes lingered a second too long for Keith’s comfort before turning and walking away with the rest of his group.

 

“Fucking prick,” Moore muttered. “You cool?” he asked Keith.

 

“Yeah, he’s just trying to get a rise out of me, I think.” Keith looked around for Shiro and finally spotted him rounding the corner of a building.

 

Shiro slowed his approach as he took in the sight of Keith and his... pants. “Um, I don’t know if I can let you walk into a bar looking like that…” His voice held a slightly lustful tone but he sounded more like an overprotective boyfriend.

 

“You don’t like ‘em?” Keith shifted his weight and cocked his hip.

 

Shiro just gave Keith a sly smile, mindful of his other friend’s presence.

 

“We ready to get going?” Moore interrupted. “I’m going to text Woolf now so he can hurry Erikson along with his hair…”

 

The boys left North Campus and headed towards the townhouses. As they walked up to the house, Keith noted how well the guests’ cars were hidden. Most people had probably walked or parked way down the street. The house looked quiet and most of the lights were off. Moore knocked and Woolf answered. “Hey, sorry. You guys mind waiting for a bit inside? You know Erikson and his hair,” he said, gesturing towards his own.

 

As they walked into the foyer, Keith squeezed in front of Shiro so he could turn around and see the look on his face.

 

They walked into the living area and: “SURPRISE!” was shouted by at least seventy-five people crammed into Erikson and Woolf’s living area and kitchen. Erikson was standing in front of the group, arms crossed and smiling, obviously pleased with himself (and likely his hair).

 

Shiro had stopped in his tracks, jaw open, eyes wide. “What the-”

 

“It’s a going-away party, idiot,” Erikson said as he walked up to hug Shiro.

 

Keith paired up his phone to the speaker system and pulled up the first song in his playlist for Shiro: Whitesnake, “Here I go again on my own”.

 

“...And you’re playing Whitesnake??”

 

Woolf laughed. “Only for tonight, OK? Keith’s made you a whole playlist of epic cheesiness.”

 

“Holy shit.” Shiro ran his hand through his hair, floored at the amount of people there. “So... we’re _not_ going to Radio Bar?”

 

“No.” Erikson laughed before standing on a chair for everyone’s attention while Medina handed Shiro and Keith drinks. As always, Erikson played the emcee. “OK, everyone, I need your attention, we’re going to do this now before everyone gets wasted!!” The group laughed. “First of all, it was Shiro’s birthday last week, so happy birthday... But. We are all here tonight to honor our legendary friend, Captain Takashi Shirogane, a man who all of our kids will learn about in school among the likes of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin; first man on Kerberos, first man to travel the farthest humans have _ever_ travelled. We are watching history in the making. Shiro, everyone is here because you’re an inspiring and incredible person, coworker, leader, and friend. So,” Erikson raised his beer and the mass of bodies in front of him followed suit. “Best of luck on this epic mission of missions. We are _all_ proud of you and are all honored to call you a friend. And tonight we are sending you off in style. Just don’t pass out and make me drag you out of the bathroom again.” The group laughed again. “We will miss you, but we all know that you’ve always been destined to do great things. To Shiro!”

 

“TO SHIRO!” the group repeated.

 

Medina chanted, “Speech, speech!” and half the group joined in so Shiro stood up on the chair after Erikson to address the party.

 

“I’m still in shock at the amount of people here, wow… Um… Thank you. I’m truly honored.” He looked around the room, taking in everyone’s faces. “Wow, everyone is here, my engineers from my first two missions, my Kerberos mechanics, everyone from flight school, shit… Oh my god, Anna! My cousin Anna made it out from California. Oh shit, Jocko and my boys from East Griffin. Uh… I see some exes…” The group chuckled. “And of course my best friends. Thanks for organizing this. I can’t believe everyone’s here; everyone that I’ve ever collaborated with at school, everyone that I’ve worked with at the Garrison...” Shiro made eye contact with Keith. “Everyone that’s important to me, in this room. This is crazy. All of you have had such an impact on me and have made me who I am, and I’m incredibly grateful to have such amazing support and friends. Um, I wish I would’ve known this was happening so I could’ve prepared something a little more eloquent, but thank you. All of you. Cheers.”

 

Keith took a drink and followed up Whitesnake with Quiet Riot: “Cum on Feel the Noize”. Shiro grinned at Keith as he jumped down. “Are you serious right now with this music? You’re allowing this?”

 

Keith laughed. “I’m serious.”

 

“Thanks guys,” Shiro said as his core group gathered around.

 

“Group hug!” Medina herded the group closer. Celine came over and squeezed in as well.

 

Shiro’s cousin and her husband approached as the group slowly dispersed.  “Anna! I can't believe you’re here! When did you get in?!” Shiro asked, hugging her and her husband.

 

“Well, originally we couldn't make it because of work but we decided to play hooky last minute. We got in a couple hours ago, we're staying at a hotel in town.”

 

“I can’t even- Thanks, this means a lot.”

 

“Of course!” I thought we'd all get dinner tomorrow night. Then we’ll head back early on Sunday.”

 

“Yeah, let's do that,” Shiro said.

 

Anna gave Keith a big hug. “Good to see you again, Keith. Nikko says ‘hi’.”

 

Keith snickered. “Well, tell Nikko I said, ‘good riddance.’”

 

Of course Shiro, Anna, and Brandon all made Keith feel guilty with a resounding: “Awww…”

 

Anna and Brandon hugged Shiro again and walked into the kitchen to grab drinks. While the rest of Shiro’s group had wandered off to mingle, Woolf stayed back and pulled Shiro and Keith to the side. “OK… so... just so you guys know. Um, there’s _one_ questionable guest here tonight, so I’m just warning you… You know… there’s always one.”

 

“If you tell me it’s Rivali, I’ll beat the shit out of him,” Shiro spat with zero hesitation.

 

“No, no, no. No Rivali. Um, you remember, well, I’m sure you remember… That uh, environmental grad student guy that was making Erikson crazy a while back…”

 

Shiro and Keith looked at each other. “Jules?!” Shiro asked. “What?!”

 

“Yeah, him. He’s here.” Woolf dropped his voice even lower. “I don’t know, he and Erikson have been... hanging out lately… past few weeks...”

 

Shiro’s raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “What???”

 

“Yeah, I know. Erikson is apparently lending his expertise in another research project that the guy is working on as a preliminary dissertation for a Ph.D. application or something along those lines. The guy is actually really cool; he’s fucking hilarious. But... I don’t know what the deal is with Erikson. OK? So, just so you guys aren't like ‘what the fuck’ when you see him...”

 

“Huh...” Keith finally muttered with curiosity.

 

“Are you OK with that?” Shiro asked as Woolf disappeared into the crowd.

 

“I don’t care that he’s here. I’m… intrigued… On Erikson’s behalf,” Keith said.

 

“Yeah… same,” Shiro answered as he looked around the room.

 

“Shiro!!” a group called for his attention. It reminded Keith of the first time they got to know each other in this exact house. Shiro kissed Keith on the cheek and took off; Keith wandered, looking for Celine and hoping to catch a glimpse of Jules. The next song came on, Survivor: “Eye of the Tiger”. Keith barked a laugh when he saw Shiro’s excited fist pump above the crowd.

 

Keith spotted Celine with Neil Woolf and, there you go, Jules. They were both doubled over laughing at something he’d said. His bleached ends were now dyed a silvery lavender, nails painted a smoky blue, and he wore an open gauge, almost see-through, oversized grey sweater hanging slightly off his shoulder.  A few feet away, Erikson was conversing with some other officers. Nothing suspicious... Celine waved Keith over.

 

“Hey, guys.” Keith decided a nebulous greeting was best.

 

“Hi… Keith, I presume?” Jules asked.

 

“Uh, yeah…”

 

“Jules,” he said, holding his hand out. “Nice to meet you. Sorry, I was a bit of a dick last time we met.”

 

“Yeah, I mean, whatever. It’s all good.” It wasn’t worth being upset about. It had been a few months and Shiro was his. And Keith knew it.

 

“OK, cool. The Lieutenant invited me, I'm not stalking you guys or anything,” Jules clarified with animated hands.

 

“I didn't really think you were,” Keith chuckled.

 

“Oh, give me a sec…” Jules diverted his attention as a cute girl walked by. “Hi there, what's _your_ name? I love your dress. I’m Julian.”

 

She cocked an eyebrow at Jules but humored him. “Sergeant Harper,” she replied with slight authority in her voice.

 

“Ooh, you mean business. You look like a strong woman that takes charge. You don’t take any shit, do you?”

 

Harper’s face cracked a smile at Jules’ enthusiasm. “I’ve been told.”

 

“That’s _exactly_ what my friend needs!” Jules pointed at Harper with conviction. “Do you know my friend, Lieutenant Erikson?”

 

She shrugged. “Everyone knows Erikson. Although, he was my copilot for one of our classes back in flight school. But... that was a long time ago.”

 

“What?! And that was it?! Nothing happened?! Would you ever go out with him? He’s a _really_ great guy...” Jules rambled, intent on selling Erikson. Keith and Celine looked on with interest while Little Woolf left to get another drink.

 

“Um, I... guess... He’s never asked me out or anything,” Harper replied.

 

“Ugh, he’s a bit of an oblivious idiot.” Jules looked around and to get Erikson’s attention; he half-shouted, half-sang, “Lieutenant!”

 

Keith laughed when eighteen people turned around. “Jules, there’s a million lieutenants here.”

 

“Damn these stupid titles. Jesper!!” Jules shouted, gesturing towards the girl he’d just found for him.

 

Erikson looked over and furrowed his brow. He turned red and held the bridge of his nose when he saw that Jules was whoring him out again. “OK, I’m embarrassing him. I'll work on him,” Jules said, patting Harper on the shoulder. “Keep him in in mind, though. We’ll talk later...” Harper rolled her eyes but smiled and strutted off.

 

Erikson called over to Jules, “Will you stop it?!”

 

“I’m just facilitating getting your dick sucked tonight, OK? You should be thanking me. You’re too picky, she’s cute,” Jules shouted over the crowd.

 

Erikson walked closer so that he didn’t have to be publicly embarrassed by this things that came out of Jules’ mouth. “Oh my god, _please_ stop. Please.”

 

“You need help. You can’t just rely on your blonde hair and blue eyes, OK? They’re pretty and all but… I’m finding someone, stop bitching.” Jules set his empty beer bottle down and snatched Erikson’s beer out of his hand to drink.

 

“Did you drive here? Don’t drink too much, how are you getting home?”

 

“Of course I drove, I live an hour away. I’ll crash on your couch if I can’t drive. It’ll be fine.”

 

“I can’t guarantee that five people won’t already be passed out on that couch later,” Erikson said, gesturing towards the couch.

 

Jules smirked. “Does that mean if I get drunk enough that I get to sleep in _your_ bed?” He then chugged the rest of Erikson’s beer while he waited for an answer.

 

Erikson turned red again, obviously flustered. “What? I- I don’t…” Erikson stuttered. “I don't know what to do with you. Just... don’t... get wasted and drive home.”

 

“I need another beer, Lieutenant,” Jules said, shaking the already empty bottle in Erikson’s face. Erikson's lips quirked into a slight smile before he turned and walked towards the kitchen, relieving Jules of his empty bottle. Keith and Celine looked at each other, unsure of what to make of their interaction.

 

“He’s so hapless in his fucking... Brooks Brothers,” Jules observed, crossing his arms, watching Erikson walk off.

 

Celine giggled. “Does that store still even exist?”

 

“Exactly!!” Jules gestured. “He’s the only one keeping them in business. And he’s so terrible with girls. It’s cute, but painful. So... I’m getting him some tonight, I’m finding him a girl.”

 

“That’s very noble of you,” Keith joked.

 

“Well, that’s plan A… He doesn’t know that _I’m_ plan B.” Jules smirked.

 

“Uhhh… I don’t… Really? I don’t know if he'll go for that,” Keith sputtered with surprise.

 

“He’s painfully straight,” Jules acknowledged. “But… he’s a _little_ curious. I give him _so_ much shit, and he takes it and just keeps coming back for more. He’s definitely, definitely curious.” Something dark and mischievous clouded Jules’ eyes. “I’ll get to him eventually… He’s going to want to experiment one day... and it’s going to be me.”

 

_OK then…._

 

“Oh, that reminds me… can I request a song for the Lieutenant?” Jules asked.

 

Keith pulled out his phone to examine his playlist. “It’s gotta fit with the theme…”

 

“Oh, it does. Human League: ‘Don't you want me’.”

 

“You are evil…”

 

“I know,” Jules acknowledged slyly. “Oh, and any Pat Benatar queued up?”

 

“‘Heartbreaker’. That adequate for you?” Keith responded.

 

Jules pondered. “Mmmm, yes. That's good… You look cute in those pants by the way.” He surprised Keith by pinching his ass before walking off to watch Erikson’s reaction when his song came on.

 

Celine laughed. “He's a fucking character.”

 

Keith agreed. “I’d pay money to watch him successfully seduce Erikson...of _all_ fucking people...” Erikson was easily the most uptight of Shiro's friends.

 

Keith was a little pissed at himself for not thinking of that song for his playlist to begin with. It was a great crowd pleaser, everyone stopped to sing their hearts out to the chorus: Shiro as he mingled in the crowd, Medina as he bonded with Jocko, Woolf as he caught up with his little brother, Moore as he chatted with Shiro’s cousin, and Jules as he hung on Erikson. _What the…_

 

“OK, what do you have next?” Celine questioned.

 

“Uh… ‘More than a Feeling’ and then ‘Blinded by the Light’… Or I could tone it down with ‘Space Oddity’ and ‘Rocket Man’,” Keith said, eyeing his playlist.

 

“Wow, this is some epic shit you came up with. You might need to tone it down so no one’s head explodes, though. So Bowie and Elton sound like a good interim.”

 

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Keith said, rearranging the queue on his phone.

 

“I want to go smoke so badly, damn this alcohol,” Celine complained.

 

“Don’t do it!” Keith tried to motivate her even though he was itching for a cigarette as well. “You talking to Little Woolf again?”

 

“Yeah… He’s cute... And it’s hard to stay away when he’s in town. We’ll see what happens.”

 

Shiro interrupted, slinging an arm around Keith. “I can’t believe you came up with this music.”

 

Keith suppressed an enormous grin. “It was all with you in mind. And there’s plenty more...”

 

Shiro leaned in and whispered in Keith’s ear. “You’re amazing.”

 

“You are,” Keith returned, side-jutting his hip into Shiro’s.

 

Shiro gave him a quick peck on the side of his head before he walked over to the kitchen. Keith watched as Jules greeted Shiro and embarrassed Erikson some more.

 

\-----

 

Keith had an epic ending to his playlist planned: Bon Jovi: ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’, Queen: ‘We are the Champions’, and of course, Journey: ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’. But before that, Keith decided to play his song. The crowd was sufficiently drunk at this point and if Shiro didn’t notice the song, then no big deal. Keith’s buzz also gave him more confidence. He pulled up UB40’s cover of ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ and added it to “up next”. Celine paused her conversation with Little Woolf and gave Keith a thumbs-up when she heard the song come on. He looked around and didn’t see Shiro so he wandered through the house to find him.

 

Medina and Jules were drunkenly comparing the similarities of Spanish and Tagalog. Erikson was finally talking to Harper. Older Woolf was… OK, making out with a random girl. Moore was intensely debating dark matter theory with a few other pilots. The entire crowd was drunkenly singing along with the song but it was already halfway over and Keith hadn’t located Shiro.

 

Finally he spotted him near the stairs: a few coworkers offering some final, alcohol-influenced words of wisdom, Shiro nodding, pretending like they were making sense. Shiro looked over and met Keith’s eyes. He smiled a sort of sad smile while the chorus filled the distance between them. Shiro’s company mouthed silent words, partygoers blurred past them. The two “star-crossed lovers” stood, eyes locked, frozen in a small moment of time and space.

 

_Take my hand, take my whole life, too_

_For I can't help falling in love with you_

 

\-----

 

Keith woke up in Shiro’s bed Sunday morning with a pit in his stomach. Shiro as usual was already up and not in bed. Keith hadn’t slept well that night; he kept waking up thinking he’d slept through Shiro’s departure.

 

Keith willed himself to stand and look out the window. Sure enough, the press was gathering and the mission control shuttle van was parked and waiting to pick up the Kerberos crew.

 

Shiro’s apartment was oddly quiet. Usually Shiro was up, listening to music, making breakfast. Keith wandered out of the bedroom and found Shiro, dressed in his training uniform base layers, meditating on the couch. He cracked an eye open when he sensed Keith’s presence.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Keith said quietly.

 

“You’re not, I just... do this sometimes… I’m- I’m nervous as shit right now…”

 

Keith had never heard anything like this come out of Shiro’s mouth. Ever. Keith just held his breath, not knowing what to say.

 

“I have to be downstairs in ten…”

 

Keith nodded and swallowed. “Yeah… I saw the van parked outside. The paparazzi are waiting.” Keith attempted a weak smirk, a feebile attempt at their normal banter.

 

Shiro snorted. “Hardly…” He then heaved a deep breath. “What if I can’t do this… What if I fail or...? There's so much that's… unknown out there, so much that can go wrong.... What if I'm not good enough?”

 

“Shiro. You're the _best_ pilot at the Garrison.”

 

“That's debatable.”

 

“No. It isn't.”

 

Shiro smiled. “I think _you're_ the best pilot at the Garrison.”

 

“I'm... not a pilot, yet… but… thank you,” Keith said sheepishly, stunned by the compliment. “You're the best for this job, it’s impossible for you to fail. If you _do_ fail, then… it's because humans aren't prepared for deep space travel, not because you aren't good enough.”

 

Shiro contemplated and Keith stood silently until his eyes welled up. He walked over to Shiro and buried himself one last time in his solid, all-encompassing embrace. They remained like this for their final five minutes.

 

Keith climbed out of Shiro’s lap so that Shiro could get up, put on his coat, and grab his bag of gear. “You can, uh, stay here if you don’t want to go back to the dorms just yet.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“I’ll try to video chat with you tonight. They still let us have contact with the outside world for a little longer.”

 

“OK…”

 

Shiro dug in his pocket and held out a key. “I... wanted to give you this… I’m not going to be around when you turn nineteen so… take care of it for me.” It was the manual key to his red hoverbike. “When you insert the key you can reprogram the retina scan to recognize you.”

 

Keith’s mouth fell open. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can take this.”

 

“You’re just keeping an eye on it for me, that’s all.” Shiro winked. “And if you take it out before your birthday just stay in the desert away from the roads and don’t get caught.”

 

Keith walked up and accepted the key. “OK. Thank you.”

 

Shiro pulled him into one last deep kiss before he left. He cradled Keith’s head in his hand and rested his forehead on Keith’s, blinking tears away. “I’ll miss you. Stay out of trouble, OK? And try not to get expelled.”

 

Keith chuckled through his tears. “I’ll try. I’ll miss you, too...”

 

\-----

 

Keith turned on his television on the first of December at 11:45 A.M. and realized he couldn't watch the launch alone. He flipped the TV off and ran down a flight of stairs to Celine’s room.

 

Celine’s other friends had already congregated in her room but were considerate and left to watch the launch elsewhere when they saw Keith at the door. Celine hugged Keith as they sat on the edge of her bed, watching the televised coverage of the launch.

 

Reporter: The Kerberos mission crew is now leaving their quarantined training quarters at Mission Control, led by Commander Samuel Holt. To his left, his son, communications specialist and lead scientist, Matthew Holt; and to his right, the pilot, Captain Takashi Shirogane.

 

The crew paused for a few brief questions before they boarded. After the final hatch closure, the crew’s voices could be heard over the intercom:

 

Shiro: System final check.

 

Matt Holt: System final check complete.

 

Shiro: Mission Control, all systems are go.

 

Mission Control: We are go for auto-sequence start. Initiate countdown: T-minus 20 seconds.

 

Shiro: Roger that.

 

Matt Holt: Initiating sequence.

 

Mission Control: Captain, we are go for main engine start.

 

The engines throttled to life and tore through Keith. Celine’s grip tightened on his arm. Keith tried to focus on the screen but tears blurred the image.

 

Mission Control: T minus 11 seconds...

10… The hoverbike key in Keith’s hand

9… Shiro’s cousins crowded around Keith on the couch

8… The dinner party

7… Keith’s birthday weekend in the desert

6… Movie nights

5… Their first kiss

4… Sword practice in the desert

3… The first sim flight with Shiro

2… Stir-fry Mondays

1… Shiro’s smile during their first conversation at Erikson’s party

 

Exhaust billowed around the shuttle.

 

Mission Control: Booster ignition and lift off.

 

\-----

 

Keith sniffled. The castle hummed. “... And then you were gone.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a playlist on Spotify compiling the songs referenced throughout the fic:  
> [Strengths and Weaknesses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/user/vn4nlsmslld9gxecp47ntmz4a/playlist/6lodpOCBxkBfpajjUK5pYV)  
> Enjoy! Or groan and roll your eyes like Keith. It also includes songs referenced in parts 4 and 5.


	28. This is me now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew… this is a heavy one. But, we all knew this was coming.

Shiro sighed and dried his eyes with his human hand. The boys had relocated to Shiro's room as to not wake the others. “No wonder that hoverbike looked so familiar. So… I guess that brings us to the present, then…”

 

Keith closed his eyes. “Not… really. A lot of shit went down while you were gone.”

 

“I vaguely remember Lance mentioning that you got kicked out…”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“I _told_ you not to get expelled...”

 

\-----

 

Shiro’s absence became numbingly normal after a few weeks. And then it was the holidays, a time of year in which Keith was accustomed to being alone anyway.

 

January brought the new winter quarter with an even busier schedule; the Garrison was considering letting Keith graduate a semester early so more mentored flight sessions and advanced classes were packed into his agenda. Which left Keith with little down time. Which was good…

 

Keith had asked for most of the mentored sessions to be moved to mornings before class. He hated waking up early but it felt safest. Tuesday nights were his only late nights and Moore was usually around to pick Keith up. He didn’t hear much from the guys after the new year. Medina had been promoted to Lieutenant early January and left to pilot the orbiter maintenance trip to Mars shortly after. Erikson was busy monitoring and reporting the Kerberos crew’s progress. Woolf was apparently dating the girl he hooked up with at Shiro’s farewell party and wasn't around much either.

 

Keith left the sim atrium one Tuesday night in early February and found Moore waiting as usual in his van, sheltered from the bitter cold. Keith climbed in. “Hey.”

 

“Hey, man! This fucking weather,” Moore bitched, shivering from the cold air that flooded in from the open passenger door. “I thought when I moved to Arizona that it would be warm all the time. No one told me that there’s ‘cold deserts’ and ‘hot deserts’... Fuck cold deserts… How’s everything going?”

 

“Ah, not bad. Boring but busy, I guess,” Keith said, rubbing his hands together for warmth after shutting the van door.

 

“Yeah, I hear you. Everyone’s been busy. But, I just got a text from Erikson. You want to take a ride with me over to Mission Control?” Moore asked.

 

“Um, sure, what for?” Keith asked, a little confused.

 

Moore smiled. “Erikson’s finally got some video feed from the ship. It’s about a week’s delay and they had some issues patching in last month but they got it fixed and it’s back online. It’s nothing exciting, just day-to-day life in zero-G. But you can check in on Shiro.”

 

Keith’s heart warmed. “Yeah, that would be awesome!”

 

So, Moore and Keith drove twenty minutes out of the way to Mission Control. Erikson let them in; he was one of the only people there at this hour. He brought them to a large desk with multiple screens just showing static. Moore took out his laptop to do some work while he waited. Erikson took a break from his task of combing through video of the ship to find shots for the graphics team to touch up for various publications. He scrolled through some other video feeds to find clips of the crew for Keith.

 

The video quality was OK, the sound was shit, but it was Shiro and it was all Keith wanted. Keith sat contentedly watching the crew performing basic maintenance on the inside of the ship in addition to going through activities of daily living such as eating together and brushing their teeth. Keith’s favorite clip was that of Shiro trying to cut his hair.

 

It was difficult to leave that night and the videos renewed the initial emptiness Keith had felt in his gut immediately following Shiro’s departure. But it was comforting knowing that he was around and well, and just light-minutes away.

 

After that, every few weeks or so, Moore would drive Keith to Mission Control so he could watch new footage of Shiro while he and Erikson caught up on work.

 

\-----

 

Keith was startled awake at 5 A.M. on May 7th by a knock on his door. He thought it was part of his dream so he closed his eyes only to be startled again by a second knock.

 

Celine always announced herself. And she’d never come by this early. Keith groaned. “Ugh, who is it?”

 

“Keith... It’s Erikson.”

 

 _That’s weird._ “Uh, give me a sec…” Keith flipped on a dim light on his nightstand and threw on a tee. He opened the door, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the hallway fluorescent lights.

 

Erikson was red-eyed, hair a bit of a mess, uniform wrinkled, clutching a single sheet of paper.

 

“Uh, no offense,” Keith chuckled sleepily, “but you look like shit. You OK?”

 

Erikson shook his head, looked up at the ceiling, and then clenched his eyes shut. He looked like he was fighting back tears.

 

Keith’s sleepy haze cleared quickly. “Seriously, you OK?”

 

“Can I come in?” his voice tremored.

 

Keith stepped aside and closed the door behind Erikson. “Uh, what's up?”

 

Erikson took a deep breath. “Um... I’ve been at Mission Control… all night.” He held his forehead with his hand. “Fuck.” He took another deep breath and continued. “There… has been… _no_ movement inside of the ship for a week. Mission Control picked up on it last week and thought it was a glitch so they gave it another week... The supervisors, the communications techs, the engineers... They've _all_ reviewed the footage. I’ve been through all the fucking video feeds myself. _Three_ fucking times.” His voice was starting to lose its composure again. “There’s nothing. There’s no one. The ship is... empty. It’s been empty for at least one full week, probably two if we account for the delay in receiving video from the ship…”

 

Keith wasn’t fully comprehending. “What- I mean, where are they? What do you mean?”

 

Erikson held up the sheet of paper. “I have to issue this press statement.” He tensely looked around the room, breathing heavily to regain enough composure to continue speaking. He then met Keith’s eyes. “All… three members... of the Kerberos crew... are missing... Presumed. Dead.” Erikson closed his eyes and swallowed. “Pilot. Error.”

 

Keith felt like the floor was slowly tilting away from him. “What??”

 

“I’m sorry.” Tears streamed down Erikson’s face. “I haven’t told the guys yet. I have to go type up the rest of the report and send it out; I just stopped on my way to the office so you didn’t have to hear it on the news… I have to go tell the world that my best friend is dead.”

 

Keith’s stunned brain started comprehending the words coming out of Erikson’s mouth. “Shiro’s… dead?”

 

Erikson closed his eyes and nodded.  The silence in the room became deafening; the air, suddenly suffocating.

 

Keith sank back onto his bed and looked around his room in shock, a lump forming in his throat. “No. That’s not… that’s not possible.” He looked up to Erikson hoping for a different answer.

 

“Keith, there’s no way anyone could survive outside of the ship for that long. There’s no one in the video. Nothing’s been touched on the ship. All the sensors have been idle. There’s... no one there…”

 

“What… what about video on the moon itself?”

 

“We don't have video cameras on the ship pointed in that direction. Only a still camera. And the last photo Matt Holt took with that camera was three weeks ago as they passed Pluto.”

 

“Oh my god,” Keith exhaled as tears finally pricked his eyes. His heart pounded in his throat and echoed in his head. _Shiro_ … “I think I’m going to throw up…” Keith got to the toilet in time and dry heaved. There was nothing in his stomach. And now he felt there was nothing left inside of his body at all. He rested his head on the cool toilet seat and breathed heavily. This wasn’t happening. He was still dreaming. He’d wake up in Shiro’s bed on a warm summer day with sunlight streaming into the bedroom. Maybe to the smell of breakfast. Warm and safe and happy...

 

He opened his eyes to his dimly lit dorm room, cold bathroom floor, and a faint twilight behind the blinds of his single window to the outside. He shuddered. Erikson stood in the doorway of the bathroom. “Are you OK? I mean,” he huffed and paced in a circle, “of course you’re not OK…”

 

Keith feebly stood and rinsed his mouth of the bitter taste of bile in the bathroom sink. He couldn’t look Erikson in the eye as the tears started to flow. His hands trembled holding the sides of the sink and waves of nausea overcame him again. Erikson put his hand on Keith’s shoulder and could only manage a whisper through his own tears, “I'm sorry, Keith… I'm so, so sorry. I know you’ve been through a lot…”

 

Keith walked past Erikson in a tearful daze and slumped onto the edge of his bed. “This isn't… real.  He’ll come back. He’ll be OK…”

 

Erikson closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don't think so, Keith.”

 

It felt so selfish, but he thought it anyway, _What am I going to do now?_ He was always alone, but this… Keith lay down and pushed his fingers into his eyes and tried to suppress the panic rising in his heaving chest. Erikson's press statement headline played over and over in his head. _Presumed dead._

 

“You know this is bullshit, right? Pilot _fucking_ error?” Erikson spat.

 

Keith blinked tears away to focus on Erikson’s face as he weakly sat back up. “How do they know?”

 

“They don’t! It’s Iverson’s fucking… coverup. They don’t have a logical explanation to what happened. He doesn't want the mission to appear ill-equipped or poorly planned. And there's not much to investigate. All we’ve got is the video feed. It costs too much to send people. They'll eventually send a probe but... it’ll take forever… Won’t make a difference anyway…” Erikson’s brief rage fizzled out and his voice trailed off.

 

“He was planting that shit for months in the back of everyone's minds before the launch,” Keith mumbled.

 

Erikson nodded his head in agreement and stared past Keith blankly. “He’s exploiting what he perceives as the weakest link to distract from other aspects of the mission that could be scrutinized.”

 

“Fuck…” Keith sobbed.

 

“They’re uh, going to cancel classes today, just so… you know.” Erikson gestured vaguely around the room. “Memorial’s in three days… I think they’ll have grievance counselors on campus starting tomorrow… Um... I need to get this in, before 7 A.M.,” he said, holding up the dictated press release. Erikson scribbled his cell number on a separate piece of paper on Keith’s desk. “Call me if you need anything, I’ll stop by and check in on you later, OK? After I tell… everyone else. I gotta find a Japanese translator for his family...” Erikson cursed to himself.

 

Keith’s heart sunk at the thought of Yukimi Shirogane finding out that her son was dead. “Anna…” Keith mumbled. “His cousin can translate for you.”

 

Erikson nodded, wiping tears away, attempting to look less of an emotional wreck before he stepped into the dormitory hallway.  “Right… I’ll call her first.” He turned before he left. “I promise I’ll stop by later. OK? I gotta go…”

 

\-----

 

Keith lay in bed. As soon as his mind found a numbing state of calm, overwhelming helplessness paralyzed him again. His phone pinged a notification and he picked it up. The Garrison had issued the statement. It was 7:03.

 

At 7:06 there was another knock at the door. Keith got up because he knew it would be Celine this time.

 

Her wet eyes were wide, holding up her phone with Erikson’s press release open. “Is this for real?” Her voice shook.

 

Keith nodded. She barreled into him and held him as tightly as she could.

 

\-----

 

“The media started calling it the ‘Kerberos Conspiracy’. People came up with all these crazy and outlandish theories about what had happened and why the Garrison wasn't doing anything, although some of them aren’t so far-fetched anymore… now that I’m sitting on a fucking, flying castle-spaceship-thing… Erikson got fed up with spouting the bullshit that Iverson fed him so he resigned after a week.”

 

“Erikson resigned?!”

 

“Yeah. I don't know where he went. Woolf was talking about going to work for Boeing with his brother. Moore got caught trying to hack Iverson’s email and was dishonorably discharged from the Garrison…”

 

Shiro’s mouth hung open. “Are you serious?”

 

“The Garrison servers were hacked so many times in the first two weeks. Pidge was one of them… People just wanted proper answers. The Garrison wasn’t happy with the way Iverson handled the situation so he was taken off of the Kerberos mission, or what was left of it, and they put him back in charge of the flight school. But it was just a slap on the wrist.” Keith then snorted. “Medina must've come back from Mars and been in complete shock… “

 

The two were sitting at a small table in Shiro’s room. Shiro held his head in his hands taking it all in. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

 

“I’m sure it… pales in comparison to what happened to you…” Keith looked up but Shiro kept his head down and didn’t make eye contact. Keith’s gaze locked on Shiro’s robotic arm; he still found it difficult to tear his eyes away from it. What had they done to him?

 

Shiro remained silent so Keith continued. “I tried to focus at school but… I couldn’t. I didn’t care. I just... gave up. I just wanted to find out what happened to you and that’s all that mattered. I marched my ass up to Iverson’s office after the memorial service and bitched him out until he ordered a one-week suspension. I came back from suspension and burst into his office again. He threatened me with expulsion. Of all fucking people, Rivali pulled me out of Iverson’s office and tried talking sense into me…” Bile rose up in the back of Keith’s throat in disgust at the memory.

 

Shiro looked up and snorted, “I should've let Rivali take the damn mission…”

 

“He would’ve made a shitty Black Paladin,” Keith offered with a smirk. Shiro mustered a weak smile in response. “Anyway, I gave it another two weeks. But I went back to Iverson again. I was still so furious. Nothing made it better... So, I got expelled for ‘discipline issues.’”

 

“Where did you go? You weren’t living alone in that shack in the desert the whole time, were you?”

 

“I had nowhere to go, Shiro. Plus I told you, I just felt drawn to that part of the desert. The Blue Lion...”

 

“Why didn’t you call one of the guys? They would’ve helped you out.”

 

“My computer and phone were part of my scholarship so they took them from me. I couldn’t contact anyone. I left with… nothing. Except for the bike. And the practice sword.” _And my blade_. Keith read the worry in Shiro’s eyes. “I picked up odd jobs in the next town over to make enough money to eat and… survive. It wasn't the first time in my life I went to bed hungry for days on end.”

 

“I wish I could've been there. I wish I could’ve helped you.”

 

“No. I wish I could’ve helped _you_. Everyone gave up on you and… there was nothing I could do. I was powerless. And I want to help you _now_ , but you won’t _let_ me, Shiro!” Keith became emotional again.

 

Shiro just shook his head. “It's… complicated and muddy. I wouldn't even know where to start.”

 

Keith was tired of crying but here he was again. “It’s been crazy because I finally got you back but… you’re still so far away... And I’m still powerless. I loved you… I _still_ love you.”

 

Shiro closed his eyes. “Keith. I don't think we can be together right now. It's just not the right time…”

 

“Why not?!” _After all this? This is the fucking answer I get?_

 

“It would just be a distraction. We have a massive responsibility right now. We can’t let anything get in the way that could hinder our dedication to our mission. The Galra are committing planetary genocide. And if the people… or beings they encounter aren’t slaughtered, then they’re enslaved and they’re tortured. On top of all of that, it’s not fair to the team. Two of us are able to find a happy escape, but the rest? Lance and Hunk? They can’t go back to their families right now. Pidge still doesn’t know where her father and brother are, if they're alive… And Allura? She has nothing. Her entire country… race… planet?”

 

“You have a thing for Allura,” Keith muttered bitterly.

 

“No, I don’t.”

 

Keith huffed, “You’re doing it again. You’re being strong on the outside for everyone else at the expense of your own happiness and well-being. The rest of the team doesn’t have to know. And I think they'd be fine with it if they did. It won’t compromise Voltron. Please, Shiro…”

 

Shiro took a deep breath and looked Keith in the eye. “I think you have this... romanticized version in your head of who I was. I’m not the person you remember… I’m not the same…”

 

“Shiro! You’re the same! You’re the same hard-working, talented, and inspiring leader you were at the Garris-”

 

“I’m not!”  Shiro interrupted. He pushed his fingertips to his temples, “I’m _so_ messed up in my head and... maybe I look the same on the outside to you but… no, not even, I’m not the same on the outside either.” Shiro unzipped his black vest and shrugged it off.

 

“What are you doing?” Keith questioned Shiro’s odd behavior. Shiro pulled off his gray long-sleeved base layer. Lastly, he pulled off a black tank. Keith stared horrified at the deep scars that covered Shiro’s exposed torso and human arm. One particularly deep and prominent scar dragged down from his heart to his abdomen: like they had tried to open him up to see what made him work…

 

Shiro flipped his Galra-tech arm and slid off the cover of a small panel on the underside of the upper arm. He punched in a code to disengage the cyborg prosthesis. He pulled it off and let it drop heavily onto the table in front of him with a loud clanging thud. “This is me now... God knows what's on the inside.”

 

Obviously, Keith had noticed the forelock of hair that had likely lost its color under intense stress and trauma. And Keith had noticed Shiro’s more sallow complexion, sunken eyes, and worn features. He also noticed that Shiro had more bulk to him which he assumed was either from training to fight as a gladiator or from some sort of steroid-like substance that the Galra used to keep him fighting. And the scar across his face was unavoidable. But here Shiro was in front of him: a shocking sight. An amputee with dozens of scars scattered across his pale torso. And countless scars Keith couldn’t see, both inside and out.

 

“It doesn't change how I feel, I-.”

 

“Keith! Did you hear me? _I_ don't even know myself! I’m afraid to dig too deep and dredge things up...things I don't want to be reminded of. Things that happened to me but even moreso, things I’ve done to others. I lost track of how many I’ve killed.”

 

“I want to help you. Maybe if you talk about it…” Keith pleaded, “Let me help you… I _still_ love you.”

 

“I don’t think I can… I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t know if I’m capable of…” Shiro ran his hand through his hair and got up from the table. He pulled the black tank back on with his one arm and paced, thinking.

 

“You're giving up without even trying,” Keith muttered. He watched Shiro shiver as he silently conjured memories and paced some more. Keith redirected his gaze and stared at the cyborg prosthesis as it sat motionless on the table. Keith waited. For what, he was unsure of. Just as Keith felt ready to give up and leave the room, Shiro finally spoke up.

 

“It’s a myoelectric prosthesis,” Shiro started. “We had a similar technology on Earth but it required this external battery power and all these biosensors attached to the stump. I can’t figure out how this thing works exactly…” Shiro paused and waited for Keith’s reaction. Keith just nodded, wanted to let Shiro know that he’d listen to whatever it was that he had to say.

 

“They… initially started with my hand,” Shiro continued. Keith held his breath. Shiro was finally revealing something. “It got crushed during a fight. So the druids… experimented… and replaced my hand. I don’t think they fully understood our circulatory system so, my forearm eventually turned black and gangrenous. So they took more off but left my elbow. And then _that_ got infected. So they took more… You'd think that for such a technologically advanced civilization that they'd have proper pain management but… if they had it, it wasn't used on me…”

 

Keith nodded, taking in the information, pained at how Shiro expressed it as if it were a confession. “How…” Keith hesitated, “how did you... get the scar on your face?”

 

Shiro leaned on the wall and let out a deep exhale. “Self-inflicted…”

 

Keith’s eyes immediately darted to Shiro’s wrist. He saw faint markings of restraint but nothing that looked like an attempt on his own life.

 

Shiro resumed, “They inserted subcutaneous tracking chips on all the prisoners and the rumor was that, before I was captured, they used to insert three of them at different places in the back of the neck but the prisoners would claw them out. So they figured we'd be less likely to mess with them if they were inserted on the face, near the eyes… I could always feel the one on the bridge of my nose. I hid a knife from the mess hall one day and used my… ‘new’ hand to sharpen the blade. I tried removing the chips myself… I made the cut and located two but they got to me before I could pull out the last one. I got… punished for it, obviously. They knew they had to revise the amputation but they let it turn black while I starved in solitary confinement and let me shiver with the worst fever I’ve ever had… And then they ‘fixed’ me and forced me to fight again...” Shiro’s jaw clenched with rage. “They do this to all of the prisoners… Planets, and solar systems, and galaxies of prisoners. The Galra _have_ to be stopped...”

 

Keith’s mind went to his blade he carried and the unanswered questions he still had about his own heritage. He buried them deep down. _One thing at a time_. “We will. We'll stop them.”

 

Shiro checked the time on the Altean clock next to his bed. “The others will be up in a few vargas... We need to get some sleep. We've got a busy day ahead of us.”

 

“Every day is a busy day…” Keith stood up, defeated. He sighed, “Uh, goodnight… I guess… Thank you for telling me...” He stalled and then started towards the door until Keith felt Shiro’s hand grabbing his.

 

“Wait...” Shiro whispered. Keith paused and turned back around, heart fluttering with hope once more. “Thank you for listening.” Shiro’s eyes softened as he gazed into Keith’s. He smiled and brushed the hair out of Keith’s eyes. “You _are_ my weakness,” Shiro admitted quietly.

 

The one-armed embrace felt slightly different but Keith relished in Shiro’s ever-comforting proximity. Keith pulled away slightly to look Shiro in the eye again. He took a chance and held Shiro’s head in his hands to kiss his pale lips. It was stiff and hesitant but Shiro’s lips slowly gave in to Keith’s and softly kissed back. “Stay here,” Shiro murmured into Keith’s mouth.

 

“I want to…” Keith sighed.

 

Shiro pulled Keith towards his bed. They both lay down, Shiro running his hand up and down Keith’s arm before holding him tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry I forgot you,” Shiro said, burying his face into the back of Keith’s neck.

 

Keith chuckled. “I guess I can forgive you.”

 

Shiro smiled. “I really do want to give this a shot… Us. But, it can’t affect Voltron.”

 

Keith tried to suppress the giddiness rising from his stomach. “I just want you, Shiro. It won't affect Voltron. We're in this together...”

 

“It might take me a while to talk about certain things, or to be intimate... I can’t make any promises. OK?”

 

“Just don't leave again,” Keith whispered as he closed his eyes.

 

“You know I can't promise that.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all once again for reading and for the positive feedback and amazing comments, they really kept me motivated to keep writing this thing. Thanks again!
> 
> Huge thank you to [avidbeader](http://archiveofourown.org/users/avidbeader) for going back through this entire monster to help me fix typos and crap. She's amazing!! If there are any left they are my fault.
> 
> As you’ve probably noticed there are additional parts to this series now, so if you’re interested in more:
> 
> Part 2 gives us one last glimpse of Keith before his expulsion and then follows our OCs after Shiro crash lands back on Earth. They unofficially form "Team Fuck the Garrison" as they uncover some startling information that the Garrison has been keeping secret and meet some of the humans on Earth that also have Galra lineage. Including Keith's mother. Or at least my version of Keith's mother (the majority was written before S5) I know it’s not sheith but I promise you it’s fairly entertaining. 
> 
> Part 3 is potentially a dumping ground for random bonus content and backstories. Currently it just has a cute backstory on Keith meeting Celine (about 1 year before meeting Shiro and his crew)
> 
> Part 4 follows Keith and Shiro during season 2 now that Shiro knows about his and Keith’s prior relationship.
> 
> Yell at me on [Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/latart)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [You have a choice, pretty boy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10545644) by [avidbeader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidbeader/pseuds/avidbeader)
  * [I suggest we try out that hot tub](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11636601) by [avidbeader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidbeader/pseuds/avidbeader)
  * [Day Nine: Memories](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758641) by [bandgeek1stbassclarinet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandgeek1stbassclarinet/pseuds/bandgeek1stbassclarinet)




End file.
